Sometimes I think about what I did wrong . What I could've done different.
I don't know what I'm feeling still , if I'm still having an episode or if it's over now and this is just who I am.
I haven't heard from you in some time and I put the blame on you. I was too tired and on my way out of this world to bother with a message or call.
People don't tell me things. I'm left to find out on my own or embarrass myself with ignorance.
I was done. I'm still done.
I spent two hours in the phone that night, starring into space and not being able to find words to say. No one wants to talk about it out loud. No one could actually say those things out loud. Lies are easier to choke on when they're not coming from a key board.
Nothing's missing. There hasn't been anyone home for a long time here
