Wednesday, November 21, 2012

No matter how many times I change the question, the answer is the same.

I can't breathe.
But I'm not sure I've ever gotten a full breath in the past nine years.
And I've survived this long.
Maybe breathing isn't as important as I thought.

All I want to do is sleep.
My dreams keep me from staring at the phone.
And the thing that hurts the most,
Is how easy it is for you to leave me alone.

It's been nine years, and you don't know me at all.
Or at least I hope you don't, because I don't like who you make me out
to be.

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