Love Diet
It's four-seventeen and I'm reading poetry
the words intertwine to create an empathy
from memories that can't help but relate
to poets with a similar unfortunate fate
but my point of view is from the other end
I'm always the one to leave you for a friend
I can't right any tragedies about a breaking up
I'm always the one with a half-empty cup
and still I spend my time to mourn
The days that never come unborn
and still I cry my nights away
and force a smile through the day
And still I dwell on moments past
Because from love, I long to fast
Because, my love, you were my last.
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