It makes me sick to think
that  I am sitting at my desk
with tears welling in my eyes
trying to compose
something beautiful to describe
how you put knots in my stomach
in the worst way.
Thinking to myself,
maybe if I make it sound pretty
something beautiful will come out of this.

But you're just a pretty face
with a jet black heart
and I've been telling myself
for way too long
that playing hard to get
will make you a dependable person
When evidently,
I don't need you to be devoted
I need you to be gone.