Writing words before you say them only makes them rhyme,
And it's childish and unnatural to write your words in lines
Because who knows what I'll say when you can't answer my reply,
Maybe it's just a case of writer's block that leaves you hanging dry.

There's no point in last goodbyes because they take up time
And bore me sick, double quick, but you don't see the signs.
Please, just stop, it's too much to take without that little white lying,
Excuse my frown but it's not fake and my cheeks ache from smiling.

Don't make this like a TV show that's been replayed too much,
Or tell it like you're new to love and spark everytime we touch,
We both grew out of that, grew up, and now all that remains
Are ripped-out pages and empty spaces that our love used to stain.