You said you wanted to be with me. That was a lie.
You told me you missed me. It was a lie.
You told me you loved me, but that too was a lie.
Two years and we've come to this.
A pot and kettle that's broken, but still paired together. As if we'd work.
But we don't.
I'm the pot who has no use, unable to come to a boil, and you're the kettle
with a huge crack.
Slowly but surely, about to shatter into pieces.
The water that leaked from your broken spout are the lies you've told me.
The water dripping down my side are the tears that I shed for you.
We're broken, but we make such a good pair.
We're a great team, but now its nothing but a dream.
Now I know, all good things must come to an end.
Your spout has broken this time.
And my pot has just began to boil.