Better for me with you, oh yes please. Oh me oh my. Wonderful magical you. But. Better for you without me. Much better without. Contagious poisonous me.

Quite a kick in the pants when put that way, but the boot fits suspiciously well. Doesn’t it?

Was it better before or better after. Be true. Was it easier or harder.

A sad truth.

It would be better for you if we never. If I never.

I took from you. I made it worse for you. I did. It’s true.

And sorry won’t fix it. Nothing will fix it. I did what I always do and I did it again to you. Reckless romance can be as careless and wanton as a tornado. And just as sightless and destructive too.

So I guess these are just crocodile tears. But hell if they don’t feel like the real, agonizing, heartbroken deal.

And to heck with regret, I know. But still.

Regret.

 

Whippoorwill.