You smile good-bye,

And I despise you

With every fiber

Of my heart:


Did you not tell me

That you loved me –

But just enough

To wish me luck?


You see exactly

Where I’m going;

You understand

I won’t return;


I value it

That you should trust me –

So blindly

You would watch me turn


To dust, and still expect

Next morning

To feel my hand,

In yours clasped tightly:


I’ll joke about the

Death I’d died and

Lie to your face

That all is fine;


Yet, when you even try

To stop me,

I simply laugh

Into your eyes;


No, not because

I’m mad and callous,

But because I find weakness



You should have listened

When they told you,

‘She looks it,

But she isn’t nice,’


Sadly, your heart

Did not choose wisely;

Sadly, you followed it

And now…


You can’t let go

Without it seeming

That you don’t love me

As you should,


Nor can you stop me

When I leave; sadly,

I can’t imagine

How you would;


What is it called,

This game of grasping,

Of letting go,

Of pain and patience,


A game

For miserable losers

Who play not with each other

But themselves?