You said it was my game you found, you continued, you played. Yes, that’s what you said.

Me, you played, instead you tore my limbs from my life and my love from my heart. It was me you played with every note, every stanza, every lyric, every melody, it was me you played.

Maybe you are now enrapt with a string of giggle, enrobed by your impish glee. Now what I hope you see, as you saw me flee, retreat, and fall down to my knees.

A stronger version is what you will see, a man of vision, of purpose, with a touch of elegance, never revealed, with a touch of delicious arrogance, maybe a dash of boorish eloquence, who still believes in romance, who is afraid to find no rhythm, yet still he finds a way to dance. Unbowed, unbroken, unbent, on both feet, shoulders squared, he still stands.

Yes, I was the game you played here I still stand unafraid. Imagine what could have been if you delayed.
If you were honest.
If instead of the way you played.
In my arms you would have stayed?

Imagine.