so this is war
so long old friend
i let my guard drop
to let your heart in
i never knew that you
would dream about
shoving knives into my kisses

this feel sick
i am a puddle you are big black boots
with the evidence of mud
on your new shoelaces
and the silence
and the stillness
has inspired you
to be quick to think up
new ways to be so cruel

i am a target
and you must be my archer
who wants the golden apple
who lives each day for the match

and now i see your true light
and now i see your words like smoke
on a bad afternoon
on this final hour
with these final words to you

"i am worth more than the shit you put me through. i am not a fool. i'll be better off without you."