When our time comes, which you know it does so often. Don’t be gentle when you leave.
When we say goodbye for one last time, don’t say a goodbye, say something hurtful with hate.
When I look up to you with craving eyes, make the face of disgust and walk away.
When I beg you to call me, or hear me just once. Bang the phone and block me.
When I text you telling you that we should rethink this, don’t ever bother replying.
When you hear of me crying over you, go celebrate and don’t forget to do a social media campaign around it.
When I’m fallen on the ground, don’t offer me your hands. Kick some dust and storm away.
So when our time comes, don’t try to be heroic. Crumple my paper heart and dump it.
Because, we both know, if you leave gently, I’ll follow you around like a lovesick puppy. If you leave so gently, my heart will make you see a make believe home where we can make things work. I will build us a dream that will be hard to escape.
If you leave gently, I will ask you to stay.
They all said we wouldn’t last, they said this will fade away. We proved them wrong and stayed strong, only for us to eventually fray. It was paradise, it was war-zone. So I said when you leave me, don’t be gentle. tear me apart so I won’t beg you to stay.
Why then am I so hurt when you merely did what I asked you to do? Our mind can be a hell of its own kind, it makes me constantly believe if I turned you into this or were you always this way.
Hurry up now, don’t stop, don’t look back to see the salt on my cheeks. You are almost there, go dive into another heart and forget that we ever existed.
And hey, when you leave her, remember, don’t be gentle, don’t make her ask you to stay.