You lay here, heart hard, eyes open with your mind closed; I’ve never been wit another person and felt so all alone. And to think, I did this outta the goodness of my soul; I’ll take the good, still think I was better off staying home. What’s a man to do, when the simple things are what he craves n such; something as small as being held, is that ever asking for too much? What is this; Feels like far less than a friendship and your heart cant be so hard that you cant see the things that I wish…
But I guess I shouldn’t share this hurt; this check i’m writing’s nothing, not even a sentimental worth. Bankrupt of emotion, never taught how to love; only identify with sadness, joy’s what your trials have stripped you of. I observe a grown woman in fear, curled up into little girl; overwhelmed by her obstacles, so she cowers from the world. We all are givers and sometimes we can get taken advantage of; but being selfish only classifies you with the takers and as being such.
I’ll never understand someone who cries from lack of affection, but can’t show it, doesn’t know it and in the end lives by neglecting; no ones is perfect, nothing is always needed to be said, but I know this’ll fall on deaf ears, should’ve just kept it in my head…
So All Alone
:-)