what's done is done
whether it be in love and war
we can not redo the past
it doesn't sting as much as i hoped
and the pain never really comes
i don't cry like you think i would
after being told, "i never loved you."
i don't chase you like you hoped
and i don't leave heartbroken voicemails
i don't go out to clubs to mask the pain
that never truly came
but every now and then, i'm reminded of you
with the scent of pine trees and irish spring
but what i soon came to realize was
your words hurt you more than you thought
and it was really me, "who never loved you."