It was always going to happen.
I’ve seen far too many silver linings
for you to feel sorry for me.
You don’t have to care; I promise
I never cared that much for you.
Still I keep on begging you to
tell me this is what you want.
To tell me you’ve given up on life
more than you’ve given up on me.
And I deserve so much better
than to be your consolation prize,
waiting for the day you don’t love me
and drying innocence from my eyes.

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