i know the truth
if you do, don't tell it
cause i feel alone in a room full of people
people that sting much like bees once their mouths get the courage to open

the walls,
they are welcoming enough to let me lean on them
but move once i trust them
so i dont trust anymore

like roses, trust can be beautiful at times
but bite you once you try to reach for them
my finger tips still bleed from all the times i've tried
when i think of you,
i pluck out a thorn each time to remind me of the pain you left behind

but that's just it, it's behind you
you moved on. you don't care
while i'm just here trying to clean the hair from the drain so the water can flow again

your picture still hangs in the same place
not centered, cause you weren't the type for details
but neither in a place that would cause me to move it
im afraid that if i take it down, the dust will make me sniffle
so intensely that my mother will coming running to see if i'm ill
then i'd have to explain to her why you dress is still laid out on the bed from the night you never showed up

i wouldn't like that,
i hide from things, hide from confessions
confessions that make me feel like this
but i always feel like this

so why am i still hiding?
shouldn't i know how to deal with it by now
shouldn't i be comfortably numb
shouldn't i just...... stop for a second
breath,
take time for me,
understand my language
instead of decoding the character i call "love"

they say love isn't a game,
but how come i'm always checking for my mate like it was chess
checking through the little peep hole in the door for 7 hours at a time
cause that was your favourite number,
and if you were to show up then it would be perfect timing

you're perfect in that way,
that's why i'm waiting for that moment
the moment the door opens wide
and the dress is put back on