Battlefield

I'd rather be alone, than to be waiting for you to come home. Breathing with a sigh of uncertainty of whether your time could belong to me. I am much too grown to watch you play coy, my life is just too precious to be treated as a toy. How can you feed me a line like that? What response do you expect to get back? I've played the game, it's all the same, I'd rather stop now than be the lame that gets hurt again. I'm a rookie that feels like a veteran. A piece of shrapnel, lodged in my heart remains, bitter sweet, reminding me of the hurt of the war, but it's all good cause love is what I was fighting for. But that was then, that is no more. But I am no longer afraid of the battlefield, I am only interested in the fruits it will yield. I walk alone, but not for long, whistling the content song.