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Roses and Maybes 2

And it kills me slowly, those conflicting feelings that I wish I could control.

I feel selfish, but maybe for the first time in a very, very long time, I'm thinking about myself, how I feel and how I fell.

This pattern of being the third of two. Why don't I know how to make a relationship work with someone actually available?

I know you're also suffering, and I wish I could help, I wish it so hard. Father must be tired of listening to my prayers for you.

Maybe you'll come back someday. I sure wish you would. But maybe you won't, and this is me trying to make peace with that. Also not to loose the habit of being a drama queen who now wants to pour out all of her feeling whenever possible...

No thorns in this dimension

Hiding this fear of rejection

This high I've never felt so small

Not used to disattention

Permanently in supension

I wish I didn't care at all...

Stretching toward the sky like I don't care

Wishing you could see me standing there

But I'm not a sunflower, a little funny

Neither am I a lily, daring you to love me

And I wouldn't change overnight

to turn into something you'd like

Cause I'm not a sunflower, a little funny

Neither am I a rose, waiting for you to pick me

And I know you do have a clue,

This weird flower's waiting for you, waiting for you...

I think I'm on the second or third stage of mourning