I Don't Want You Anymore

Handwritten letters, pretty paper crafts,

Do they matter to you?

Are you in art?

If you are, then it's awesome,

'cause I could make them forever for you,

if having you as mine becomes a dream come true.

I love you. Do you?

You say "for sure," but I don't feel even a speck of that affection.

So I ask again,

"Do you really?"

Or is it just a one-sided attraction?

Please tell me the truth;

I don't want the lies to be more,

because just what was it that I did not give you, amor?

And what did you give me before?

I guess empty words of hope, for sure.

Oh darling, you can wish you could settle the score,

but I don't expect anything from you anymore.

I don't want.

I don't want the replies of the letters I wrote you months before,

or the replies of questions you know I seek for sure.

I don't want gifts from you or for you to hold my hand,

because I know you know that if you really wanted, you can.

I don't want you.

I don't want you to reciprocate my feelings, no offense,

'cause I already know you don't love me, in your defense.

No, I don't want you to make me stay.

What's the point of it now when I've already withered away?

But I guess it's all a lie,

some part of me will always want you,

because even if I've went away,

I can't bring myself to bid adieu.

But I hope,

I hope I would not want you anymore, I swear.

And even if I do, I'll make sure no one is aware.

I hope that if someday someone asks me on the road of life, a mess,

"Do you still want her to be yours?"

I will not leave them to guess.

I would say,

"No, I don't beg for love anymore,

'cause love is a choice, not a contest."