You majored in breaking hearts
at the university of shattering dreams
and ****, you got far in there,
expert, PhD level, and I was just
another research paper in your
continuous studies for whatever
magazine it is you publish in.
I knew I was just a subject
ready to be learnt and thrashed
after a semester but i remained a hopeless slave.
to your thinking of
'credit approved credit forgotten'
you remained loyal to the end
and once this textbook was read
I was sold and you moved on
to the next big requirement.
and boy I should've listened
to those with experience,
all those people that'd been broken,
the ones that'd raised their voice
but I was deaf to their shouts,
now I'm nowhere, somehow still enslaved
by those phantom white chains you call hands
and I can't find the keys. I guess I'm hooked,
sick as that is, to your poison, that drug,
while some dealt *** you were giving out
false love and fake attention,
it made me feel like I'd found meaning
but it was all a bad trip, I'm an addict
to that unknown cause and I was happy
to go along with and I abused it
and I can't get off the roller coaster feel.
The rush is gone replaced with sudden fits
of emptiness, my dealer is gone: you're gone,
and I'm dissipating away too.
I traded everything to be apart of you
and you're graduating Magna *** Laude
while I'm some random drop out.
Well, congratulations and good luck,
the future is bright for students like you.