Where do we go from here? You used to treat me like a friend but I didn't go home last night and I woke up to our clothes next to your bed. It's not that I regret it- I don't think I could regret any time with you- but if this isn't friendship, what the hell are we gonna do?
I wanted to call you, I wanted to ask what's going on, but I'm scared of the consequence of not leaving well enough alone. Did you even mean it or were you just drunk on a lonely night? I know better than anyone that the words you say aren't always so contrite.
If I'm honest then you're right, there's nothing left to say, but I can't be silent as you're walking away. I'm screaming for you the only way I know how- by making it poetic and writing it down. Love's the other side of our mistakes and our flaws so it's painful and it's angry and it's broken and raw. If you leave me like this, I swear on last night, like a desperate fury, I will haunt you.