this time,
i saw it coming,
or so i say.

this time,
it didn't hurt,
i wasn't sad,
i was nothing.

because

this time,
i was numb...

whatever was left;
an inkling, a trace of what there was,

is gone.

and this time,
it didn't hurt because the nerves have been stripped,
and i'm not sad because the well has run dry.

this time,
you've taken everything.
and now - what i am and what i have left -

is nothing.