postscript

I woke to an ache in my tooth and a soreness in my chest. 
Still feeling a bad dream. 
Rinsed and spit, tried to brush my hair. 
Reminded myself not to care. 
Bitterness isn't my thing. 

Took a walk to no particular place. 
This sad girl said she liked my face. 
It was the sweetest thing I ever heard, so I blew her off 
and saved us al some hurt. 

You gave me a call, I turned off my heart and tuned you out. 
I call it protecting myself. 
Revenge didn't taste so sweet, it tasted just like defeat. 
One way or another you get the best of me. 
 
it's a little too late, and i'm a little too honest.
please go easy on me.
repetitve mediocrity. i think this is a fucking bad dream.