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What am I supposed to do, with all these leftover feelings,
because I do not know, and I do not even know if they are true,
how should I separate the lies, from what I always thought was the truth,
how did we fall asleep in love, and wake up in this nightmare.
I am the fry at the bottom, but there is only one problem,
instead of consuming me like always, you throw me away with the wrappings,
such a rarity, to throw away something so golden,
but your adolescence, proves to be your weakness.
Months have passed, everyone still asks me the same questions,
and the answer continuously changes, as the pain proves to be too much,
where did I go wrong, must I now be freed from your prison,
only mark is the tear, that lands in the bag with the fry at the bottom.