Someone I used to be close to
told me a long time ago
that to be alive, you need to suffer.
To have a soul, you’ve got to lose it,
to be alive, you need to die.
I know now she was full of shit,
lost in her own mental mathematics.
I guess truth is relative to whoever speaks it,
white is black when you’re always under covers.
Someone I used to love,
told me some months ago.
That I was the worst thing to ever come into her life,
but she still kept her heart in mine.
It made her feel alive.
But now, that fire’s burnt out.
The water’s been splashed, the sand’s been dug,
a campsite long abandoned.
And under the very same moon
where I once contemplated briefly about you.
Analyzed the possible outcomes, the risks I’d take.
Shrugged my shoulders, I made the date.
I don’t dream much anymore.
You’ve stolen my last rational thought.
All I can do to forget about you
is hope that you forget me too.