Cut

As I write you face the future.
The consequences of reckless time.
Sitting in chains you wait your turn.
The judges sentence for your crime.

The courtroom absent of your people.
Most too busy to give a fuck.
Chasing the dope you used to sell.
Having no support must really suck.

The time has passed when I cared.
I would have come for you without fail.
I bet you expected me to be there.
Still in shock I stopped sending mail.

Perhaps I didn't even come to mind.
Your thoughts on anything but me.
No sorrow for the loss of your biggest fan.
Am I just a stalker, is that what you see?

I remember when you defended my honor.
When haters were told to shut the fuck up.
Then you hated ammo at the ready.
Trivializing me to fill your egos cup.

I know you're wounded deep inside.
True love far from what you desire.
Yelling, hitting, dysfunction your norm.
All that shit keeps away passions fire.

Needing, lacking, never getting enough.
That one over there might fix it.
Chasing, catching, destroying it all.
Blaming everyone for your bullshit.

My resolve fed by your actions.
I removed myself, illusion free.
It was all made up, not true.
To love you I ignored reality.

Fact is my love was always mine alone.
I loved a made-up man.
The pain I felt was self-inflicted.
God's love will heal me as only he can.

I have some sadness that you're gone.
I miss loving you no matter what.
Being the one who loves you more.
Relieved I'm ending this B-movie, CUT

August 18, 2015 © Becky Jo Gibson, All rights resejrved