No point denying; I'm abdicated.
Your detached apathy says it all.
In the wasted hours oscillated,
I learned to love, to hate, and to crawl.
I must believe you love to see me cry,
Or is it possible you're that naïve?
You deceive then chuckle, smile while you lie
Should I laugh out loud or begin to grieve?
Am I too much too soon, or not enough?
Have you pinn'd down my ev'ry flaw just yet?
Are all the circumstances smooth or rough?
Oh how soon your definitions forget.
As awkward as ultimatums echo,
State your position [at last]: friend or foe?