i’m not quite sure where we went astray
or if i could’ve gone any other way
i feel like this story is coming to a close
& i hate that i am someone you must loathe
to move on is to forget, or maybe it is to settle
to be able to stay full without having to meddle;
but here we are, two peas in a pod
one beansprout and petal that you forgot—

“did i do something wrong?” who do you think you are?
because everyday i’m wishing on futile shooting stars—
you say it to act like you care, but really you don’t,
it’s a curtesy. a “please & thank you”, moaned
with a self-pity so aware
that i now know
you just don’t care.

i think i’m selfish. but you are too,
so i think we’re even. it’s just us two
if one of us pretends, it’s certainly you;
lies lies lies. nothing is true.

i care too much.
you care about other things.
it’s a landslide bound
for fragile hearts.