You're stuck in my mind.
A constant reminder the looms in my brain, torturing me.
I wish I could connect with you, like I did before.
But I'm questioning how you feel towards me.
Repeated thoughts of your hate towards me creeps in,
Even though I have no proof of this accusation.
No evidence.
It's just anxiety taking.
Anxiety talks to me more than we do,
God I wish that could change.
But as long as the she-devil herself sticks around,
We will never know how you really feel.
I have a couple of wishes,
One being me overcoming my problems,
And the other being you.
You are my wish.
I wish to see you,
To experience you,
To feel you.
You just sounds so.... You.
