Big Deal

You don’t love me.

Big fucking deal.

You’ve met me maybe twice,

maybe thrice, but what does it matter?

You only stayed for five minutes.

You don’t care about me.

Big fucking deal.

I’d like to convince myself,

that I’m better without you.

 

It shouldn’t bother me,

and it hasn’t till now.

So, why do you get to,

crawl into my head?

Play with my thoughts,

make me think that,

things would have been different.

Only if you cared, only if you loved.

What makes them better than me?

Is it the drugs or the desperation?

You could’ve at least called.

 

You don’t know anything about me.

That’s a big fucking deal.

Or are you too ashamed,

to admit that you were in the wrong?

I won’t go running to you,

but keep in mind,

our time is short,

and you’ll be gone before you know it.

 

You never once sent a card,

called or talked to me directly.

Big fucking deal,

it doesn’t bother me.

I just would like to know,

why you pretend that

I don’t exist?

I would just like to know,

why you wouldn’t admit that,

we share the same blood?

You don’t love me,

you never will,

not a big deal.

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