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It's about several different things. Words, worlds, silence. Friends, boy, disagreement. |
I saw you just today. I spoke with you this morning. But somehow I miss you. The new world has consumed me. I'm different than I once was. No one knows how. The reason escapes me. Fleeing. Running. I don't want to think about it. The drama is hard. The worlds look at eachother with scorn, disagreement. I'll always long for the days When nothing was something. It felt so right with you and me. Sometimes I wish I had it with him. Talking, talking. I long for smooth conversation. Where I'm not worried, and I'm not scared. Because I know that no matter what I say, We're always gonna be okay. I listen to sad statements; I witness quiet sadness. And I wonder why awkward silence is so awkward And why I have so much to say, Or nothing at all. And it feels so good to say something. But it's the wrong thing. It's always the wrong thing. The downright horribleness of those words... The ones she said to me... I sat, shocked, Wanting to yell. When her mouth is closed and her eyes weary, I want to be calm. I want to apologize For the bitch I feel like I've become. For the actions that overcame my reason. For the quiet voice in my head that said nothing, even though it recognized stupidity. |