Is this what our days have become?
Coming home, throwing my work items down on the table,
Making a cheap microwave meal,
Calling you,
Sitting in the silence and the static on your end.
Is this what our days have become?
Walking on eggshells,
Walking in circles,
Saying nothing,
Biting our tongues,
Me trying to act as if nothing went wrong,
As if I didn't lose control,
Didn't almost lose you.
Is this what our days have become?
A few words for a few minutes,
Before I go to sleep,
And you eventually start your day,
Before I wake up as the sun sets,
As you wind down from the stress of your day,
Your life,
The stress of knowing me.
Or is there something more? Something better? Something neither of us see at this moment?
Will it even get better?
Who's to say...
