My fingers swipe away Every instinct telling me to text you Your fingers swipe away Every instinct telling you not to respond And every response takes longer And I can hold out a little more But I wonder if I'm in your head Cause I can't do this anymore
The best mug in the cabinet Sits on the middle shelf Everyone always grabs it Rarely left to itself The handle fits perfect Though increasingly worn Held in palms to reflect With liquid so warm
A once beautiful design now a chipped away after thought
Too much talking Too much noise Too much kissing Too much touching Too much laughing Too much crying Too much fighting Too much typing Too much calling Too much singing
You were never too much for me This silence is though