Eight. Eight. Eight.

"What does it matter anymore?
Nothing to me...
and I guess...nothing to you."

Eight. Eight. Eight. Eight.
Wait...
eight?
Yeah, babe.
But...forget it, if you want,
do whatever you will.
(I'll love you still.)

Happy eight.
"Back at ya."
Wonderful...
"Later."
I'll be here,
in the misery state...
silent, sad, crying.

Violent, mad, dying.

Can't say I didn't try...
I asked, didn't I?
Mhm, I believe I did.
I'd do anything for you, kid.

Best boy in the world;
too bad you're with a stupid girl.
You got a heart-breaker in your hands,
waiting for you to understand,
she never wants to hurt you.
(Please just believe it's true.)

No intentions to make you feel like shit,
I never want to do it.
(I promise.)
Why leave?
Why can't you just forgive me now?
Why later?
Why leave?

I understand the rules of karma,
But nothing hurt more than "back at ya".
I didn't mean to bring you down...
not like it was your fault...
why are you so f#cking upset?
I didn't feel like staying, why don't you get it?
I didn't do anything wrong!
Baby, we've been together for so long.

Why do you care that this one time I left, when I didn't even promise to stay,
and every time you leave me, even when you do promise, then that's OK?

"It's just one of those times where I wish I could cry,
and every minute...
something happens,
and makes me want to even more..."

Sarah Gammon ©
09/08/06

Happy eight months, though.
Thanks for reading -xxx-.