Staring at pictures on the wall A family portrait slashed in two If words could make amend I'd fill this page up to the brim But why waste a single breath On an uneventful outcome? These lines won't even matter. Let the pages rot By means of acidic tears I'll be done by the time this pen runs out And I'll make do with half-hearted conversations Over the telephone Searching comfort and consolation over the cold November air But why waste a single tear Over an unheard confession? These lines won't even matter. So bleed me dry while I try my best To find a way around your mistakes And avoid tripping up on grievances Your eyes are dead like a winter scene Screaming silence, mirroring hatred I'm sorry to say I'm not strong enough to deal with this There's no time for untimely regrets And no more room for whispered apologies Go waste your poetry on somebody else's life I know I'm not worth your syllables.