Red thread

We were young
When I made that wish
I used to insist
On loving you
Of course, you don’t remember
But loving you
Felt like a crime

We’re both sore losers
Dancing in the background
Of someone else’s story
There is no glory
In the morning after

Still
You’re a bitch
And I'm alone
This red thread is holding us together
In this endless melody
Of memories

So I rather
Just to rip it
Even if it means
Cutting my finger off