There are so many questions I don't ask, so many things I just let be. But I wonder, do I get credit for that? Does anyone see how much I hold back, the way I respect the little black box I'm in? I sit here in the dark and wait for someone to poke another hole, to allow another pinprick of light through to my eyes. This tawny shell peels back from my skin and what's revealed is the beautiful girl within. I used to think you saw her, but now I am afraid. It's my fault and believe me my despair, if in fact you've gone away. Do you think you'll ever forgive me? Do you think we'll ever be the same?
No comments:
Post a Comment