Bad News

I won’t let myself believe
that I didn’t get anywhere.
And it’s all right if you
didn’t get anywhere good.

I won’t pretend not to be
angry, or sad, in turn,
that this end feels eerily
like the beginning.

We were supposed to
be together and we’re not
and I don’t care I don’t care
I don’t care who you’re with
or what you’re doing and
I could care less if you
never ever wonder
about me again.

Time is marching on
time is marching on
so fast
not too fast
but so fast

I can’t believe that this year
is over so suddenly and I should
be glad to see it go but some part
of me can’t help thinking
I’m not ready I’m not ready.

But I’m never ready.
For anything.
And I know that
is my fault because
I keep letting the
wrong ones in and
every one devastates
me just a little bit more.

I see you standing there.
Will you be the one to
finally put me out of
my misery at last?

I decided I wasn’t going to
hold on to things so tightly
or give them such undeserved
importance in my life but
what do you have when
you’ve let everything go?


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