How did I get here?
Well, I’m not too sure.
The one thing I do know
Is that I won’t be “her.”
And there’s nothing left to sew.
So thanks for making it clear
That you’ve found a cure,
That I’m just too slow,
That I was just “her”
And that it’s time to let go.
But no thanks for coming near
Never saying what we were,
Never coming out to show
Whether or not I was “her”
And making me feel so low.
How could you have gotten here?
And just be so sure
About what I don’t know?
Obviously I’m not her
And this is something not to sew.
So thanks for refusing to look this way.
Thanks for ignoring what I say.
Thanks for pretending I don’t exist.
Thanks for letting me know I’m not missed.
Thanks because I’m sick of the game.
Thanks because now I can do the same.
–Written By Sandy Heights
Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/users/RyanMcGuire-123690/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=362164″>Ryan McGuire</a> from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=362164″>Pixabay</a>