i needed you,
yet you tore me apart,
do you see where this is going??
you'd be surprised to know,
it's not another story about you breaking my heart.
i wasted my ink on you,
you bled me dry,
i'd be wasting my paper,
while you'd be up amongst the sky.
you weren't worth,
the lost days i spent on you,
i could've been stargazing,
i could've been cloud-watching,
i could've been taking in the view.
now that i think of it,
you're not worth my poetry either,
but i think this would be better,
than simply sitting in silence.
i remember clicking my pen,
attempting to write you a note,
and now i look at you like you're poison,
but i don't need you to give me the antidote.
i hope you read these words,
and i hope you take them in,
because this is the very last time,
I'll ever waste my ink.
-ink can be replaced, and so can you.
