He said he was coming back,
but he never did.
He gambled with our love on every coin flip,
his promises slipped among the lies,
my hope is paying now a higher price.
Every night I put a second plate
on my lonely table.
My throat burns
like I’m eating spicy paper.
His empty chair stares sadly at me,
sunk in grief, his lonely bonsai tree.
The curtains are open;
even the darkness is not at peace.
How can I make my broken heart
again one piece?
He will never stand at my door again,
hiding a present inside his pocket,
with his sexy smile
and his expensive black leather jacket.
Who can advise me
how to make my life better,
how to leave this dark side of my life
behind forever?
The large bed is not inviting anymore;
the past keeps coming back
with pain and much more.
His blanket lies folded, alone and aware
that his perfume soon will fade away.
Every night is the same.
When will this waiting time end?
I put two plates instead of one—
this is the way
to keep my hope calm.
Everyone says
we learn from our mistakes,
but nobody gives you a pill
to release the aches.