We change with the seasons. And the screaming of my tires on the pavement let me know just how many seasons had past. I will stop accepting myself as the fool. And I will let you stay in the rear-view mirror as this past lies. Every bend in the road brings pain-staking familiarity and it races through my veins but I will not let this break me, again.
I’m folded between the pages of your closed book, and there I sit, waiting on fate, pretending it doesn’t hurt. Come on Jess; just a little father, until your home, and then you can fall apart.
You keep repeating lines you think I want to hear, until they become nothing of my desire. And you’re left with useless words for a thoughtless comeback. But sorry sweetheart, there is no comeback this time.
And here our story ends and my memory begins. My heart is anywhere but here. Is this what it means to lose?