but

How can I continue that romance when she was so content with throwing me away?

How could it not have been me

How was I so easy to discard?

Was it the drugs? Or was i never wanted? Was it a charade?

What worth must I have.. That on the day I go to collect my things, it is insured that she isn't even there?

love is dead.

Or my definition is wholly unique. And clearly alone.