it’s a shame it’s a shame
you and i, we’re just the same
it’s a shame it’s a shame
you wake up so you can just walk away
you walk away

the asteroid was just a satellite
your hands in scorpio moonlight
got your eyes set on other shes
forgot to try, you’ve got no claim to me

it’s a shame it’s a shame
you and i, we’re just the same
it’s a shame it’s a shame
you wake up so you can just walk away
you walk away
you walk away

you’re just another spark
another spark
i can find my way find my way
home in the dark in the dark
just a tiny spark tiny spark

what could happen
slim possibilites
keep my pulse high
write all my dreams
each night i see a thousand futures
and i wake up back here
and each time he’s there to remind me
that broken hearts make broken years
and i plead i scream i shake in vain
and i wake up back here

got a crooked spine
that only hurts half the time
got a good plan to split
but i won’t follow it

the other side
three thousand open miles

symmetry it gets lonely
i only said
i only said
to come in alone
bring your hands
and turn off all the phones
i know it’s a shame
but we were both built that way
and i will keep searching for
the other part of me

sort our tracks
we overlap
we overlap
we don’t find our way back

Dismiss carefully
and battle back at me,
‘You were part of history’
and after all I’d done
I still thought you’d come
and save me

Hell ain’t waiting in the afterlife
it’s where our flaws take us here
We watched those flames
as they waxed and waned

on that frozen night
when the moon looked down
and said, ‘No matter where you go
this is all your hearts will ever know’

the fire hushed
we watched the snow

and time erodes,
and we let go

Who we are now and who we were before the hurt, they may as well be two sets of people. Memories deceive, but so does anger, and with such a corrosive mixture, there really is no telling who exists where anymore.

I’ve been trying harder since month six came to pass. It didn’t feel right, spending most of my days sighing like a grieving and cuckolded widow. All those weeks lost to the sad glow and simplicity of benzodiazepines, joyless flings, and a bitter, defeated voice in my chest asking why I was never enough. Nothing helped, though it did move the time along.

I took up city bike riding as an exercise in trying something new to push the old back into a hole somewhere I hoped would be inaccessible. I moved, I quit my job, and I made some new friends.

As time goes on, though, people understand less and less. It will continue this way, as the new becomes the norm and the past appears to be left at rest. When I see something that hurts, it also comes with a sinking feeling that nothing will ever be the same again. As I get older, the same callousness that they showed me creeps up into my own persona. Having witnessed many best friends morph into bitter strangers, I knew it would always be a dangling in my life as a possibility. After all, no one with friends is such an exception. My own naivety laughed in my face when I saw it unfold, finally, in my own life. Who we were then—before all the hurt—we were different inside. Circumstance changes us beyond our control sometimes.

Riding past a near-full moon the other night, I remember how that same distant rock looked when I was in love with you. In the driver’s seat, parked with a front row view of the night sky. I never expected for you to love me in return, but somewhere in that core of me that I never seem to look at, I just wanted to be special enough.

Oh, but regrets and lamentations are for weak hearts, and mine is no longer so. I catch glimpses of you from far off, content to live a life without us in it. I do not regret the years I spent with or without you; in longing, in love or lust, always left with you halfway on board. It makes no sense to bring her into the equation. You and I were lost from the very first day. To new beginnings, I lift my empty glass to us all.