I needed time to heal. Don’t you see?
You fell in love with a shell. That wasn’t me!
It was two a.m the first time I pulled up.
It was two a.m. the second time. And you ain’t give a f*ck.
Running out of time. In six hours I needed to be at work.
Instead I fought you. As you rubbed my heart in the dirt.
At two a.m. I should’ve been reading my homework assignment.
At two a.m. you recited my obituary and signed it.
At two a.m. I should have been in bed,
not thinking, not dreaming, but resting my head.
No. At two a.m. I was with you just to prove,
that I had always been here and didn’t want to lose,
you. What it could have been was your fantasy.
What it truly was. Is. My prophecy.
At two a.m. I died again.
You may have Trumped me, but love wins.