You’re not the one who brought me here.
You never built my hopes or fears.
You never touched me—not inside.
You never fed my foolish pride.
And now that we’re done
how do I do
justice to you?
What do I do?
What do I tell you?
You’re not the one who brought me here.
All of these nights we spent together
all these years
and years
they were for you.
They were forgotten
just as fast as they arrived.
Now I can’t say if we have lived or
survived—
just survived.
What do I do?
What do I tell you?
Why should I lie?
How do I keep my love alive?
What are my hopes?
What are these dreams?
Why did I stay here all this time?