One percent

Her favourite version of me

Was the one alone

Friday night

Too drunk to be alone

On a Friday night

It was her favourite version

Because she knew

That was the version

Who would answer

Her call

One percent

Battery

Spending the last

Of it

On me

Or so she said

But we never really know

Our place

In the queue

First call

Last call

Then

Last call

I said

I didn’t want those calls

Didn’t need her noise

But I answered

Every

Time

Regardless

Of

The

Time

My favourite version

Of her

Was the version who

Thought she had

Gone too far

Pushed me too far

Made me give up

Because that version

Was honest

That version

Put the games

Back in the box

I could see in her eyes

What she wanted

Needed

As I turned

And walked away

But I never

Got far

So my favourite

Version of

Her

Was only found

When her favourite

Version

Of me

Had enough

And that was why

I was incapable

Of escaping

The craziness

The nothingness

Everything

That she was

And that

Was why

I answered

When her phone

Was on

One percent