Weren’t we in love?
Now we shake hands.
It’s been almost two years,
And life’s still just as bland.

Now and again I think about everything.
From our first day to the last.
We felt like we knew each other,
But we hadn’t met in the past.

Sometimes, I think I hate myself for it:
Falling in love at eighteen.
Now stuck in the Present,
Did I mean anything?

Was it good to pass the time?
Was it your reason or rhyme?
Was I your chapter sublime?
Girl, I know you were mine.