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I had to see him again, one more time.



I had to know for sure, and as always...

I felt the fire, the heating of my skin at his touch.

The quickening of breath from an assault of urgent kisses.

But the icy coldness followed.

Callous words from a hard and barren heart that offers no affection,

no warmth or kindness.

Self-serving in his quest for fulfillment

He is born of lust and lives of lust.

He offers nothing more...



I had to see him again, one last time.

To confirm... that my spirit has healed.

And that he no longer dominates my emotions.

Yet I did not walk away in sadness or in anger.

Rather... in acceptance.

My heart no longer pines for his affections.

I am indifferent; as he is unworthy of my passion

I offered only love, he chose to decline.

So I'll walk away and share my affection elsewhere

I am born of love and Live of love.

I offer nothing more....

YOUR MEMORIES WILL ALWAYS HAUNT ME LIKE A GHOST,

TO PUT IT NICELY I HOPE YOU CHOKE,

A POET OF SORTS BUT IM NOT ENOUGH TO GIVE YOU AND EYESORE.

ITS HARD TO SWALLOW WITH YOUR HANDS AROUND MY THROAT

IM SICK AND TIRED OF, I TOLD YOU SO

YOU CAN CALL ME AT MY HOME

BUT I KNOW BETTER THAN TO ANSWER THE PHONE,

WHEN PEOPLE ASK ABOUT THE LAST TIME WE SPOKE.

I LET THE STITCHES DO THE TALKING FOR THE MOST

AND I LEAVE OUT HOW YOU THREW A LAMP THROUGH MY FRONT WINDOW.

JUST BURN THE PHOTOGRAPHS AND BURY ALL THE PAGES THAT WE KNEW.

IN SHORT THIS IS GOODBYE TO UNEXPECTING YOU

EVEN IF I SPEND 2004 LISTENING TO MORRISEY IN MY CAR

IM BETTER OFF ALONE THAN I WOULD BE IN YOUR ARMS

JUST BURN THE PHOTOGRAPHS AND BURY THE PAGES THAT WE KNEW.

IN SHORT THIS IS GOODBYE TO UNEXPECTING YOU.