It wasn’t too late, too early,
Simply a masquerade of paranoia;
Such an excuse blankets my
Poorly timed daydreams and
Silly grandiosity, unwillingly
Born from words left unsaid
Silence is a virtue when you are lying in bed
Out of breath and perspiring,
Nothingness is so tiring, conflicting when
Time has gotten much older
But my head’s on your shoulder,
**** your words and expressions,
Suspiciously uttered into my ear
When I’m spent, on my back
Yet I still attempt a smile
As I’m touched, in denial,
Slightly used and abused,
Your best kept secret.
Keep these moments on empty,
Thoughts secured tight,
Taking no feeling out of these nights,
The sick darkness reoccurs, if it wasn’t for you
Knew it couldn’t be right,
I am shut, uncatchable, unreachable, cold
Because everything in happiness eventually gets old;
This has been for a while,
And it’s making me numb…
I guess now we both know
What this has become.