Love Diet

It's four-seventeen and I'm reading poetry the words intertwine to create an empathy from memories that can't help but relate to poets with a similar unfortunate fate but my point of view is from the other end I'm always the one to leave you for a friend I can't right any tragedies about a breaking up I'm always the one with a half-empty cup and still I spend my time to mourn The days that never come unborn and still I cry my nights away and force a smile through the day And still I dwell on moments past Because from love, I long to fast Because, my love, you were my last.