(LET'S PLAY A GAME OF TAG.)
I'm It.
Chasing after you, chasing-- tag.
You're it.
Game over.
You ended our game,
When you never chased back.

As I spray on the last drop of cologne,
I wish the ounces of love in my heart--
The ounces still left and kept there for you,
Would disappear
As fast as my cologne ran out.
My cologne was saved up for special events.
And so I question
Why I'm still keeping you,
When I am your empty bottle anyway.

I need to be the controller of the game.
I cannot let the game control me.
There are no restarts.
There are no second lives.
If love was the game we played,
I've already died.