if i get the chance
to write a letter to say goodbye,
i’ll probably leave it blank
— don’t ask me why.
if i get the chance
to collect all our pictures
and put it in a collage,
i’ll probably not do it all
— again, don’t ask me why.
if i get the chance
to see you one last time:
hold you again and kiss you goodbye,
i’ll probably take it
but turn around at the last second
with my head down as i cry.
don’t ask me why.
don’t ask me why
i’ll waste all these chances
to say farewell,
because our love ended
and it didn’t end well.
don’t ask me why
i’ll give in to my sadness
when we could’ve had saved this
because
even if i tried to give my best
it’ll just end up the same;
a big old mess.
don’t ask me why
i’d rather leave than stay,
why i choose to walk away,
because all i’ll probably say is:
we tried
but love ran away.