Mean is the way I’d describe you in the simplest of words,

Look What You Made Me Do, you said—I didn’t want to hurt you, you said.

Delicate was our relationship,

Bad Blood ran through our veins,

Treacherous was the path we walked, and we’re

Out of the Woods but never the same.

Exile in space, but I couldn’t forget your face, longing for that

State of Grace that once graced our lives—

Vigilante Shit that poisoned our minds with

Sweet Nothing.

The Great War then came and only

Champagne Problems remained with no

Closure for either of us.

Long Story Short, it was a mistake.