I Swear I’m Trying, Baby

I left dishes in the sink again
you stepped on that fork that bends but never breaks
Cursed under your breath, kicked off your shoes
called this place a gallery of my mistakes
I was on the couch, phone dead
hiding from collectors and the boss I flake
Ignoring your call until the guilt made my stomach ache

You stood there in that hoodie, hair pulled back
eyes tired and brief, You didn’t yell
just said “I love you
but I’m tired of living alone with your grief.”
I slept through the alarm
you ran out the door while I mumbled plans I didn’t buy
You came home to the same dent, same pile

same half-finished song staring like a lie
I keep promising to call the doctor, send the email
pick up the glass, answer the text before I go dark
I keep getting stuck in that heavy middle where moving feels like dragging dead weight through a park.
You think I don’t hear the shake in your voice when you say this scares you more than the bills
That you’d rather fight with me than watch me turn into something that just sits still
You can live with broke, with mess

as long as I show up and don’t just lose the will.
I swear I am trying, baby
even when it looks like nothing from the door
Every day I drag myself out of bed one minute earlier
inch by inch across the floor
It doesn’t look like a movie, no fast cuts
just me washing three dishes and calling that a score

I swear I am trying, baby, not for a medal
just to meet you halfway in this war.
I know you hate the word “trying
” heard it from people who left when it hurt
You’ve seen it turn into an excuse for never moving
a way to keep hands clean of the dirt
I’m not waving it like a flag while I let you drown in the fear

I’m saying my brain feels like wet cement
but I still pick one small thing and push
year after year.
I will forget, fall back, skip steps, lose ground
that part is real, You will slam doors
cry in the shower, wish I came with a manual
rage at the deal

Then we sit on this stained carpet and ask what version of “trying” actually helps you heal.
I swear I am trying, baby
even when it looks like nothing from the door
Every day I drag myself out of bed one minute earlier
inch by inch across the floor
It doesn’t look like a movie, no fast cuts
just me washing three dishes and calling that a score

I swear I am trying, baby, not for a medal
just to meet you halfway in this war.
If I ever start using “trying” like a shield while you sink
Take that word out of my mouth before I even have time to blink
Tell me you love me enough to demand motion from these tired limbs and this foggy brain
I will hate you for an hour and thank you for years
that’s the math of staying through the rain.

I swear I am trying, baby
with a toolbox that’s cracked and cheap, Patch by patch
habit by habit
hour by brutal hour when everyone else is asleep
I can’t promise a straight line, just this weird
stubborn climb from the deep, I swear I am trying, baby
and if I forget

drag me to the mirror and make me keep.
One day we will look back at this beat-up kitchen and laugh about how far we had to crawl
Till then, I swear I am trying, baby, right here
nail by nail in this wall.