i don't have anything more to give
i've given all i could and now
i'm sitting on the ground
picking up the shards of my heart


it always ends this way
it has always ended this way
my heart is more easy to break
than i used to think


no more tears left to cry
no more emotions left to feel
no more hope that it will turn out different
no more.


i won't ever see you
standing in front of me
and you won't ever see me
in your life again


thank you for the intense rollercoaster
over the last eight months
i think i've finally found it in myself
to leave
maybe one day i'll feel less broken
and maybe
i'll just forget


you're so achingly beautiful
but
not mine,
not mine.


(and you never treated me like you wanted me in your life either.)


by tradition, three glasses of wine
are to be poured upon the ground
in honour of the dead
so here are ours:
one for the warmth i felt when i met you
two for the all the nights i cried alone
and three


three for our debts and promises
null and void
you owe me nothing
and i owe you naught


we are dead
there is now only
you and i