I gave you two months
and thirty six chances
four hundred and seven tears
I gave you my insecurities
and my neck 
and my backseat 
I gave you words you wanted to hear
but I meant them 
all of them 
I gave you words you didn’t want to hear
but needed to
and I meant them 
I gave you twenty seven dollars worth of gas
and six hundred and eighty six miles on my car
and five Saturday nights
and I gave you trust
I gave you faith
and everybody said you wouldn’t give me anything
and I shushed them 
but I shouldn’t have
because I don’t know if you can’t 
or you won’t 
but you haven’t given me
a hand to hold 
or a person to call
or a grilled cheese 
or any sweet words
or comfort 
and I don’t have anything left to give 
but I wanted to give you everything.