Cliché Goodbye

“It’s not you it’s me”

Is written on your lips like sloppy poetry

Recited this time to unlock our love and throw away the key

My head is messy

At the thought of you with someone new

The temperature’s dropping

Your tone turns my bones to stones

I hear the quiet popping

Of tiny icles chilling my bones

I feel sadness, a sort of creeping cold

It’s coming on just like you did

Slowly

I need to run but I’m afraid of slipping

Into loneliness

The thought of you is whipping

Enticing me through the wind

Like an old friend I can no longer see

Because you said “It’s not you it’s me”