october thirteenth attic in a basement, i've forgotten where you've been. it seems as though you've been gone so long, but i don't remember you at all. i hear how different you've become & i don't miss you one bit. if i've ruined love for you, i'm not sorry, because you took what could of been a year full of joy and filled it with anguish and distain. i could never stand your plastic attitude, your cheap cover ups, i've gotten so much further without you weighing me down. line and sinker, you were the fish that jumped on my hook, and pulled me over as i struggled to get back in the boat. 727 and i'm thinking of what you've already done. i can face you've become a whore, a drug addict and contracted a flesh eating bacteria. but all that is not what you were -- i'm so glad i got out when i did.