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Theres a lump in my throat,
its from the note you wrote,
liquid pain streams down my face,
staining my creamy white lace,
I feel evil and souless,
but I made a promise,
that I plan to keep,
and now i cant even sleep,
I know you hurt,
so I play and flirt,
I want to be yours,
but it just seems like a chore,
if only I could say that quote,
or leave it in something I wrote,
I can't change the past,
I always knew we wouldn't last,
I left my heart on a shelf,
to protect myself,
it will collect dust,
and some copper red rust,
but it will never see the rain,
or feel that pain,
no matter how much I give,
I will never want to live.