Liars and Saints

You made me a liar and I made you a saint
fallen from the highest heights to the lowest lows.
I don’t think you’ll even miss me when I go.
Sad to say, don’t dream I’ll let you blame me
when it all falls apart in front of your eyes.
and you come to eventually realize
that I can’t give any more to your consuming fire.
I might be made a liar, but I’ll be free from your ire.
So hate it, resent me, give me the silent treatment.
That’s fine because I’m trying so damn hard
to wipe the thought of you from my mind.
Would it piss you off if you were the reason
and subject for my new year’s resolution?
Good, because I don’t seem to mean enough to you.
Will you miss me when I’m gone?
Probably not.
If only I was that strong.