It’s just easier. Easier to be alone.
Don’t have to worry about checking his phone.
Easier with the dishes. Not too many to clean.
Don’t have to worry about what he didn’t mean.
Easier in bed. No snoring in my ear.
No. Don’t miss his body, holding me near.
Easier in the morning. No make up, no shower.
No, don’t have to worry about marriage and power.
Easier with the kids. No drama at all.
Don’t have to worry if he’ll catch my fall.
Easier when the family gets together.
No, he’s not here again, I’m alone forever.
Easier without that diamond on my finger.
No, there’s no heaviness, no weight that lingers.
Easier without the smell. No more Bacardi.
Don’t have to worry about all his mini parties.
It’s easier to be alone. No more abuse.
Don’t have to care about his being obtuse.
Easy, just look. It’s easy to do.
No, my heart’s not broken, it’s good as new.
It’s easy to be hard. No more being weak.
No, I’m not crying, my eyes sometimes leak.
The easiness comes and the easiness goes.
After all, it’s what my kismet chose.
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