At a campfire built for one
my heart aches for every flame you do not see.
When the sun rises, I will weep for every golden ray
nudging the mountain awake,
lifting the mist off of the tree,
and chasing the hare across the field.
I learned that joy was made for two,
in these last three years,
I would breathe the in
and you would breathe the out.
There was never any difference between me and you
and there still isn’t, now that we hate each other.
There is nothing in life that I haven’t earned,
threefold.
And I know I will carry us both to my grave.
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