The Thing Is

I asked, you didn't reply,

so I left without a goodbye.

I do that sometimes,

in my head, to straighten the lines,

to clear the grey in my blue blue skies,

but with you, I'm through being nice.

I see you, napping on a bad bed of lies.

Mock me and I'll mock you twice.

Listen and I'll whisper in your ear,

out of respect, not out of fear,

I want you gone, but I want you near,

and the truth is, you're a coward, my dear.

Because the thing is..

I asked and you still didn't reply. (I'm leaving.)

And this is my goodbye.