Mangle

You're not you

I'm not me

Flickered, burnt, erased.

Breakfast at Tiffany's

You spun me a million stars

And I screamed in delight and rode them all

Until I confused you with yet another of my July loves

Do you still dream by me, in snatched moments of truth?

Well carry on then, because I'm shattering those illusions too soon

And you wail in your wretched loneliness

There's nothing you have anymore.