The Miens Of An End


I won't say the words again
Even if I mean to
I think I'd rather leave both our hands
Holding mixed opinions,
Withholding lungs, and unanswered questions
It's not a lack of cause that
Calls for a blank stare
You use your tongue for all but talking;
I won't say a thing of it

I can't get over this, so I'll get over you
Division sits between us
I've made the decision for you

I'm not afraid to say you're not
The best thing to come my way
You were just the favorite
You're delicate,
And desolate
And I've grown weary

Let's let the bitter taste linger
A little longer now
Give a year and see if there's change
I'll let the bitter linger

You were just the favorite
You are just a regret







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