The game

It is ironic how
now that I can no longer see you,
now that I wake up alone
and cry, cry all the time
effortlessly.

Now that it is over
and I miss you,
and I know your love will never be mine.
It is at this moment that
I see you in my future.

It is now that it is unlikely,
so very unlikely again,
that my future sets you by my side.
It is just to keep the paradox ongoing, I say.

I’ve been here before,
and if it plays like it did,
oh, girl,
You and I are doomed.

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