I don't want to feel this anymore-
That emptiness I felt as I walked out your door.
You were so kind when telling me to go.
Trying to make it less of a blow.
I know you meant well, but I'm two steps ahead.
I knew this would happen the second I layed in your bed.
I'm empty-
I'm crying-
And I don't know why.
It's not like we even really said goodbye.
"I'll see you tomorrow!", you assured.
But my heart still sank; I felt insecure.
With shoulders slumped, I moped out the door.
I'm a fool for even thinking we'd be more-
Than something you needed-
Than something you tried-
For a second there, I made you feel alive.
Until you were bored and sent me away.
I get it, you still love me, but in a different kind of way.

I got to thinking about how you never think about me,
not once in eleven months or during our anniversary week,
does it make me weak to wonder where we'd be by now?
My throat would still ache from yelling and you'd still be down about how you're stuck in the city with no way out,
but it's funny how fast a year went by and that I still wonder if I cross your mind
when I know I don't,
I just can't accept that I was never more than a lesson to you,
one you never internalized.

Do you love me
       Or do you not?
You told me once,
        But I forgot.

Down                                 stairs. No
           the                    the                     one
                 stairs.   Up                                   really
                                                          ­                         cares.

but oh...
how can you miss someone
you never actually met?

"I wanted you to fight for me"
because you never did.
You faught more
for the last cookie
then you ever did for me.
So, while you ran
free and weak,
someone else had been fighting for me
getting stronger,
slowly stealing my heart.
And when my heart was finally taken,
you decide to fight,
but you were
too late and too fragile.
He took you out in one hit.
and all I can say is,
"I wanted you to fight for me."
-i wanted you to fight for me // a.s.