How fucking poetic
You just say goodbye and leave
No encore, just pathetic
No pause to breathe
What am I supposed to say?
When I'm all choked up
And I know you're ok?
What am I supposed to do?
While I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling
While I know too
You have no trouble sleeping
What am I supposed to think?
When you were the better part of me
And you're just gone in a blink
But I know you won't even think of me
What am I supposed to feel?
When I bleed alone and isolated
And say to myself 'to you, was it real?'
I know what... Hated
How fucking poetic
A poet wannabe ranting about one
How fucking poetic
It'll be, when it's all done
