Twisted Ease

I'm not quite sure if you're God's worry,
Or if you should be mine.
Spill your mania into my absorbent ears,
And it's a twisted ease I find.

The sober tongue you speak leaves me room to think,
Of all I gave in those 2 A.M. sweats,
searching every place I thought you'd be.
And, although it's a selfish load off my shoulders,
I'm drunk in this twisted ease.

"You never know where I'll go when you look away", you'd say.
But I can pretend like I used to when we were kids.
When you'd play dead in the water, and I'd cry over you.
I just really don't want to,
not anymore.
I'm not sure what I'm still doing this for.

Holding your hand, holding back your hair,
anytime you say you just want to unwind.
Watching you take 15 shots on a dare.
What the hell am I still doing here?
It's just such a twisted ease I find.