And So It Was an Experience...
We moved in, we moved out.
Boxes, tears, memories--
All unloaded and forced to forget.
We lived. We loved.
The martyr sat in the corner
And she refused to make a sound
Until the day it ended.
She bottled it all up inside
With no spout to pour it from.
The wine I drank was meant for you too,
I just refused to share.
Now I am willing to give you what you deserve.
And so we are back to this love
With an understanding of loss
I wish to never return.
*This is very close to the first draft. So..I called it draft 1.5.