As someone who notices every single thing
Even the most insignificant changed detail
Pushes the red bottom within my heart of glass
Not feeling nothing at all was a luxury
Wishing to be heartless was the start of my endless overthinking
Why am I like this?
Why do I care?
Why is it hard for me to accept that you are not the same anymore?
Why did you turn out like this?
What did I do to deserve this?
