On The 9th Day Of Christmas

Now we just hook up when we're drunk. We fuck and that's it. I don't know if it's better this way, but the sentiment I had for you is burnt out.

I'm moving away tomorrow and I won't have to see you again if I don't want to.

New roads are lonely though, and I've got a lot of time now. I don't like to have regrets, but letting myself feel for you was a poor mistake. Richer learned now. Wisdom is a treasure. The feeling is fizzed up like burnt paper.

I wont miss you anymore.