I heard everything you said through that white wooden door.
Crying over him falling apart on the bathroom floor.
Your words spun excuses but were sold out by your eyes.
I’m nothing more to you than a consolation prize.
And I’ve sensed revenge though the plot in me tends to steer clear of tying up loose ends.
I refuse to remain your mess.
I’ve been buried six feet deep alive in my own unrest.
Filled with emptiness, I’m penniless, over-drafted trying to impress.
I guess I’ll just always stay second best.
You took my breath away, and I don’t ever want it back again.
I’ve always had a cheap heart your bank account could always spend.
They say a picture’s worth a thousand words. I scream at yours and still stay unheard.
Maybe I’m just blind and your just deaf, or this is all just wasted breath.