Eyes like darts, your target was my heart
I thought you meant to hold it, not puncture
but I was never very sure of this game.
I seem to throw best when blinded
and you – always with a plan
didn’t see this one coming
You tell me to go for the bulls eye
“I’ll get the rest,” you say –
“you just focus on the center.”
But you can’t wrap this thing up
into one tight little bundle
journey and destiny confused
and bitter beer makes it worse
I focus on what matters
all for us, my dear
You thought I would miss, didn’t you?
We are on the same team
yet you accuse me of stepping over the line
with my stiletto that once wowed you
and tell me I threw the entire game.