Breakup

Listen to the angry thunder the hole in your head That's sunk your heart like a bullet made of lead Hitting its target, right where it's dented and dead. Listen, emergency sirens are wailing in your head But I'm never running errands or turning infrared. Turning nasty-although-we've reached a watershed. There's something about you makes me feel misled Watching you put it all on show, like Santa's sled. You're beauties unparalleled but I'm better off dead. I should listen to my gut, forget about any regret I've flunked every class I've ever sat and assayed I'm so tired of being left hanging like a thread. Whatever has gone on between us has been said I no longer desire to move backward or ahead From this point-on we're no longer enmeshed.