So if it takes four years to forget me,
remember that definitely is just a word we assign to things we think will never end.
So if you play pretend, befriend a soldier,
remember that my shoulder is open.
An unlocked box holding up rocks waiting,
training, continuously changing; for you.
So if it takes four years to forget me,
remember that we live in a world
where artists curl ears to snip it straighter,
forget the patience it took before that cut,
forget the other stuff that cause the pain
and all we see is a painting. The stained page
of a life lost to being caged in with nothing.
We are all fighting our own demons,
and I'm glad you ran from mine-
I'll fight the confines of my cage waiting,
the patience I feel  in my soul weakening,
and each hit I'm dealt seeps in further.
Bruised and blue I remember you,
the starry nights won't pay justice to me,
and I ask not a leprechaun for change
because all he'll offer me is a pen and ink
pushing me to rethink and in rethinking,
I'm thinking I miss you, I'm knowing I do,
and saying sorry hurts a little less,
because it's like a blessing to my pettiness,
I've dug my grave so let me bury in it.
London girl, this heartbreak is my own fault,
hold your head high and cherish your rides,
Carry my story as just "another man you met".