Fueled by anger
Loathing, and desperation
I'll always be a stranger
No room for conversation
Desperate for a voice other than yours
One not as loud as slamming doors
Angry because you care much more than a few
So when you ask me what my problem is, it's the one and only you
I don't need your care, much less your love
I just want to feel as free as a dove.
No need for a check-in now and then,
I don't need another supposed 'friend'.
Must I be silent for you to hear my voice?
Are you afraid of my answer that was my own choice?
