Counting to Thirteen

Not loving you? Why, that's too easy Like painting in black and blue Like counting to thirteen Starting with one, two

 

One stupid smile on that stupid face With one too soft embrace One you that I can replace

 

Two big, annoyingly soft hands Two idiotic dates at cafes with unprofessional bands Two grand gifts with designer brands

 

Three bittersweet kisses on Valentine's Day Three jokes far too cliche Three red roses at the picnic by the bay

 

Four times you stuttered on the stupid proposal Four happy yeses when I should have been woeful Four brushes of the hand that were too hopeful

 

Five stupidly wonderful fingers on my cheek Five kisses where we were too meek Five too quiet minutes before we could speak

 

Six days it took to move you in Six elated phone calls all in the bin Six months you slept on the couch 'til you-know-when

 

Seven promises to wait Seven weeks before the big date Seven times we could have that I regret and hate

 

Eight ignorant boys having too much fun to think Eight sips before I noticed drugs in my drink Eight tears before my love was on the brink

 

Nine dirty appointments to the clinic Nine rude doctors who played the cynic Nine disgusting thoughts where I was the critic

 

Ten disapproving relatives to impress The fear of ten bruises hidden under my dress Ten awful moments before I could confess

 

Eleven long, hard silences Eleven heard cries of repentance Eleven failures before acceptance

 

Twelve boxes all packed away Twelve times I could have told but didn't ask you to stay Twelve conversations that could have saved our day

 

Thirteen ugly lies that took shape Thirteen truths I couldn't escape Thirteen reasons I should have said it was rape

 

So there you have it. Not loving you is easy Like keeping going when I want to quit Like writing a poem Like staying calm when I want to have a fit Like counting to thirteen

 

But counting to thirteen Adds up to one One lover lost For a night of good fun For a group of boys And something I can't outrun Or ever forget But what's done is done

 

So, no, I don't love you It's easy I swear it's true Like counting to thirteen Until my lips turn blue