When all is considered it isn't really your fault,
O'er five years I left once but returned to your games,
And I gritted through distance and dejection and heartache,
Accepting my ranking on your list of their names,
And I patched up my heartache with potions and powders,
Dreaming and drugging patches don't last for long,
Holding splinters together was better than facing,
That I'm not worth your love- that I'm messed up and wrong,
I watch as the world moves around me and changes,
Till I no longer know who I am- what I'm for,
I should be lucky to have had even one of those evenings,
I should thank you for texting my number for more.