Titleless

You asked me to stop loving you,
Because you didn't want to see the pain in my eyes,
When in reality the pain was always in them.
It's part of my genetic make-up.

You told me to help myself,
Because you can't handle my reliance on you.
You flatter yourself, because in all honesty,
I always knew you were far from a sure thing.

You're the one they laugh about at high school reunions,
Never grew up, failed at everything her hands touched,
And that's not my fault.
Not anymore.

You asked me to stop loving you,
Not because you were concerned about my pain,
But because of your concern for your own conscience.
I guess dead-beats have feelings too. . .

I forgot your name today, and I don't feel bad about it.