On my bed I am lying,
Lost in my own imagination,
I tried sharing them by writing,
But it seem my greed is increasing,
Or maybe being judged is what I am fearing,
Because for my feeling I am inking,
I held my pen for starting,
But words seem to differ me with thinking,
For in my head they are hiding,
But their action seems understanding,
For there is no way in after exposing,
And what if my wound they are insulting,
I am not ready for a round of bullying,
Nor a hateful ignoring,
For everything I am overthinking,
Can you blame me after experiencing,
That everyone is not what they are showing,
Oversensitive is to everything I am reacting,
What you are saying is no more mattering,
‘Cause with every second passing,
My feelings seem to start fading,
On misunderstanding people I am on longer crying,
A colder me I am creating.
