Dishes piled on the counter, you are not in the mood for me.
A stale beam of light pulls your face from the night and your gaze falls blank on the TV
You never gave your two-cent share, but I was nice to have around. You threw the first stone, when I turned you were gone, and that’s the way the door revolved.
I never planned to leave, and you never planned to stay.
It’s too late for your questions, I have to walk away.
Tears in a bottle and wounds that are sore.
No one beside you to battle your war, but I cannot rescue your heart from the empty, I must release you for I’ve given plenty.
I poured out like a rainstorm, you were dry under the bridge.
The love that I gave, tied your hands like a slave and your history was more than you could live.
A state of relentless absence, you were near but self-absorbed.
You mastered the game, played the thief, turned the blame, just to spin the ball back into my court.
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