"It’s okay,” she says, “It’s okay,” she says,

With a broken heart, like a broken record,

Rather than rejected, my apologies are ignored,

She claims my mistakes are derived from her flaws.

“It’s okay,” she says, “It’s okay,” she says,

With her feet in the fire, so nonchalant,

She doesn't condemn the fire, the fire I lit,

She turns advocate and praises my sins,

Complementing my insults to her, justifying my injustices,

Defending my attacks on her, her methodology baffling

“It’s okay,” she says, “It’s okay,” she says,

A plastic smile on her face, I see through it like lace,

If my apology is in vain, then my repentance can’t be claimed,

I’m simply pouring water on an invisible flame,

I crave her resentment; I long for her frown,

For if she truly loved me then, she should hate me now.