I’m short out of words to describe how I feel
To explain to myself that this is real
That everything, in the end, it’s worth
The wallow and sorrow that doth girth

I’m short out of luck
Trying to get out
Trying to stay in
Trying to stay put
Trying to make you
To stay

I’m short out of reasons to keep on going
All the while knowing the ending
Every possible way this concludes
Will never include
“Us”

I’m short out of faith in you
Of all the sweet nothings
All you say or do
Is sweet
But it
Is nothing I want from you

This shortage, if it continues
Would leave me at the end of the sinuous
My options dwindling down
To one

To stop all of this
Because your heart’s not mine to be won

I’m short out of days to spend
I fear what will come with the end
Because you were my dose of happy
Now I’m at a shortage of ways
To feel love

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