You told me three days ago
you'd talk to me tomorrow.

Well, that was just another one of your lies,
infamous lies.

I care a lot about you.
I am interested in you.
We'll talk tomorrow.

All lies.
All you ever told me were lies.

If you just knew how much you hurt me.
All of you, the ones who brought me emotional
        harm,
and you few, the ones who brought me physical
        pain.

You abused me, and you know it.
You won't see you're wrong-doing,
but you know your actions.

I just wish you knew what you did,
what you brought to me,
what you caused me.

I am not a shirt you try on,
and put back because you don’t think
it will work.

I am not a car you take on a test drive,
and leave with the dealer because you don’t like
how you look with me.

I am not a food sample at the food court that you take
to make the poor salesperson happy,
but spit me out later because my taste didn't suit you.

I am not an object,
not something you can spit out or put back.
I am a human being.

Every three-hundred seconds,
she danced three-hundred more.
Every three-hundred seconds,

her head bobbed to music,
her foot kept a beat,
and her mouth mouthed a chorus.

No music played,
no beat pounded,
and no lyrics were there to mouth.

Her silent song played from inexistent speakers,
and her body danced to a silent song of chaos,
every three-hundred seconds.

Every time I feel a passing coming,
it heads full-throttle into action,
taking my happiness with a life.

But for my entire life, her passing has felt near,
yet she’s still here.
I fear that once I feel that she’ll be here for a long while more,

she’ll leave.
The Lord will take her from me,
and leave a family with broken hearts.

She fears passing,
saying at ninety she’ll make it to one-hundred.
I get my fear of going from her.

Together, we’ll live forever.
Only have each other,
and a difference of seventy-one years

has not held back our bonds before.
Lord, we pray,
Don’t take us.  Give us forever.

Lord, don’t take her hand from mine.
God, give us more time.
Don’t let Him let the time pass.

She tells us enough we don’t have love for her,
and now I see her once a month -
maybe.

Lord, don’t take her hand from mine.
God, give us more time.
Don’t let the time pass.

I know the truth behind it all,
but I swore I would not tell.
I just hope that someone takes the fall,
the one who pushed too well.

I know the truth behind it all,
I know the lie that hath been told.
I don’t know why I have to hold,
because the lie hurt more than this ever will.

I am too strong to my word, but keep it in I will.
Just know that when it gets too far, I will spill.
I want no more tears to fall,
I want peace for all.

No more lies to tell,
no more secrets to keep in my well.
I know the truth behind it all,
and I cannot just watch her fall.

I know this feeling too well.
Losing.

For the past ten years,
it’s been the only thing I’ve ever known.

I thought I grew used to this,
but the discomfort crept back.

Though I have not lost it all this time,
I still find myself trekking back to that familiar feeling.

Because after ten years of losing,
it's become all I know.

It’s all I know,
and I know when it’s coming.

It’s coming,
and I’m losing.