More stupid crap.

Quarter One.

I wore my poker face to the game
Because I can't let you know what cards
I have yet to play

And when you sat next to me (Intentionally?) I almost felt like
Something was happening

And when you send those signals, all mixed,
I can't help but feel helpless

Quarter Two.

You sigh and slap your knees
Talk about how boring
Football is
And I feel forced to agree
Though I don't

And I contemplate telling you the truth
But between sips of soda and games of rock-paper-scissors
You seem less than interested


I leave without saying goodbye
Or apologizing for making you cry

I leave without telling you the truth is
I still love you
Me, not your best, methinks.

All the piece felt pointless with the ending really not being that big a twist or anything, it kind of just lacked impact. It just didn't hit me like some of your other pieces do, and I think you canjust put this one behind you, to be honst.


If you're returning, it's in my sig. Many thanks.