The last time.

Four years, and I always saw this in your eyes,
But you did rationalize so well.
Feign sincere, but you always spoke to soothe my doubt,
And you really didn't think this out so well.
Now we're here, I've finally found your fatal flaw,
And you knew this was the last time.
Sorry, dear, but you know I've waited too long,
And it's not my fault that you never tried.
For weeks you didn't say one word,
And good for me, you couldn't fool me a third time.
Nothing speaks quite as loud as actions can,
So tell me, what was your plan, baby?
Bittersweet, the day I knew this wouldn't work,
What you'd known for so long.
You can't compete, despite the feelings that won't go away,
It's not your fault we're just wrong.
This is the last song you'll get out of me.
These are the last words you'll hear me speak.
So when you find you're alone and unable to sleep,
Close your eyes and regret all the things you never did.
Think of me, baby, and all the words you should have said.

"She had no heart so hardened."

Maybe it's just one of those nights, you know?
Like it always is.
It's always a maybe.
Nothing's ever set in stone anymore.
Because you're so scared of what I could turn out to be.
Give me a kiss, I'll give you a lift to the other side of town.
We'll have a grand view of lover's avenue.
Then make love on the roof.
Because this is how life is supposed to be.
Why are we so stuck in this cage?
Rats, but cute nonetheless, Miss Beth.
And the purple so brings out your eyes.
But what's this I see?
An aqueous solution forming on your cheeks?
Will Arrhenius find that you're a donator?
Corrode, corrode, my metal skin.
You know you've always wanted to see the inside.
I'm not sure how much longer I can pretend like this.
Sometimes it's fine, but mostly, it isn't.
God, I just want you here.
Everything's moving except for me.
I'm so unwilling to leave you behind.
Only, that's the past.
And you're mostly here now, but you're so unwilling to leave yourself behind.
I can't sell you my soul for eighty percent.
Oh, the trust is lacking.
Perception is twisted on my end, you know.
Where is the rush?
I want to feel the wind in my hair again, the sun in my eyes.
I want to go blind if it means I'm once again satisfied.
Where has summer gone?