We left these everything unanswered
and never had any form of closure.
You left me with these memories,
the good ones great,
the bad ones not so great.
I'm sorry for everything I've done,
but maybe if you show me what your dreams are made of,
we can make sense of this ordeal.
Because I know you still have something, buried deep within.
Did you want to tell me about selling your car?
Did you want to text me about the scar that now wraps around your ankle?
If you're done with us,
and trying to get over our conversations and memories,
than I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me out of it.
Close the door on the way out instead of trying to waste my time.
But if I'm the one wasting your time,
it's your call.
You left me,
so maybe I'll go show someone else what my dreams are made of.