Tell me, love,
what's on your mind?
I used to know.
But now you hide behind
a practiced smile,
a sweetly rehearsed lie.
Where do we go?
How did we get here?
And
Who drove us out of steer?
Who stole your heart
right under me?
And started the beginning
of our written tragedy?
Tell me, love,
how do you feel?
I used to know.
I thought this was real.
No curtains or lights,
no need to memorize
the words that came so easily.
We loved sincerely.
Didn't we?
I offered my being, my very soul.
Tell me, was it enough for you at all?
Because you have all of me,
there's nothing left here.
Except tasteless wonder
to complement salty tears.
And words written just for you.
Tell me why
tell me who.
Tell me, love,
How do we end?
I used to know.
But our plot found new trend:
lies from you slightly bent,
and our trust completely broken.
So take your bow for this performance.
I applaud your very art
of dissolving the pieces of this shattered heart.
