50.

Why don't you look deep down inside
And take comfort in pride
In what you thought that you'd done
You'd found your own home
Yet you let in him in to your domicile
And ruined your independent fun.

You spoke of stuff
But it all feels a bluff
In what I thought you have been:
Alone and safe,
Now your only to blame
For it to be ripped apart at the seams.

I dream of you still
And it still makes me ill
What was once once and still could have occurred
Now you tell me this
And I'm likely to miss
The things between us that should have unfurled.

I just want you to know
That I'm still alone
Yet I can't get you out of my head
You tell me that it's Karma
Yet I shouldn't bother
But you have until Friday, lest my Christmas be dead.