Periphery

The party is over. They've all said goodbye.

They left me alone now to tidy and cry.

This should have been my night, my moment, but still

I am the result of a good social kill.

The hundreds of names that I know that I know

are people all claiming that they have to go.

Of course they remember my loss here tonight,

and they'll all be laughing when coming of sight.

As tragedy common it starts with a girl

developing into the end of the world.

She gave me a moment to melt on the floor,

a brief taste of romance and then nothing more.

I wanted to charm her, to move and amuse.

More likely I harmed her with vocal abuse.

This brick wall of language just caught me alone

in towering anguish I started to moan:

"Oh, if you just kissed me caressing my face

and said that you'd miss me, I would have your grace.

They'd talk to me more then and call me their friend,

and I would be someone, and this not the end."

But now, as you know I am thrown to the lot,

and she clearly showed that she cared for me not.

She mocked me in public while telling it all,

retreating while gleefully watching my fall.

I guess I should hate her for leaving this way,

but sooner or later it'd come out this way.

So now it is over. They've all said goodbye.

They've left me alone now to curl up and die.