On a Wednesday, in a cafe, I watched it begin again.
Meet me on the rooftop, bring the haze, bring our lover's spit.
My fingers shake a little when I light you up, sorry.
Can you
look at me just for this one moment?
I am about to tell you
I'm leaving for good.
When I was madly in love with you
I used to play Skinny Love at 2 in the morning and think of you.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Today I was alone on the rooftop, burning down many things in my
hazy head before seeing a crow cawing on the neighbour's antenna.
Then I stared at it and I stayed there so long and I want to stay but
do you realize that the waiting game is the most ruthless?
You are not good enough for me,
but I kept waiting that you'd learn and change.
I kept waiting for the right circumstances to be before I allow myself happiness.
I waited for people to try their shot at life and act right.
I wait for most things to fall in place instead of going at it.
Time is leering at me, knowing that I'm never at rush.
People also depart in the same manner, I am told.
Before you physically walk out the door, your heart would have been long gone,
no longer around with nothing that can talk you down.
"Hey man, I love you, but no fucking way."
Dead and gone and buried.
Hey man, you were good to me, but this is not where I want to be anymore.
