Starting some poems, that I then quickly scrap,
because though I feel happy, I suspect it's a trap.
So I can't write, not for any muse,
'cause I can't find the words I want to use.
Sorry for staying, and for feeling this way,
sorry for going and not talking today.
I don't understand I'm just so confused,
holding my heart, all tattered and bruised,
what is it I want? What is I need?
Just give some advice that I can heed.
Because silence is brutal, but talking makes me feel,
and I keep reopening wounds that just won't heal