This won't be the last you'll hear from me: it's just the start.
I hope that he keeps you up for weeks like you did to me.
I will hold a candle up to you to singe your skin.
Brace yourself: I'm bent with bitterness.

When your apologies fail to ring true, (you're)
so slick with that sarcastic slew of phrases
like I thought you knew, while keeping me in
hot pursuit.

Tracing the plot finds skin touching skin
(absence follows).

In the end, I win every time as ink remains.
Sour tastes prevail as you play back the tape machine.