Maybe It's Me And My Blind Optimism To Blame

Dear John,

I see it all now that you're gone, don't you think I was too young to be messed with? The girl in the dress, cried the whole way home. I see it all, now it was wrong, don't you think 19 is too young to be played by your dark twisted games, when I loved you so? I should've known.
You are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry. Never impressed by me acing your tests, all the girls that you run dry with tired, lifeless eyes cause you burned them out. But I took your matches before fire could catch me, so don't look now: I'm shining like fireworks over your sad, empty town.

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