may 1, 2009.

you're asking if i'm okay?
well, am i?
no, not at all.
i'm just supposed to brush it off,
pretend like i don't care,
say it doesn't matter,
say it doesn't hurt,
you gave up and walked away
and now, i'm the one left behind,
left with all the pieces.
you say you want to be friends?
well i can't do that.
i can't sit here and pretend to feel
any less than i do.
your feelings change,
but i can't help mine.
i can't walk away like you do.
i'm just not as good at it.