I'm not sorry for isolating
(people like me better when they don't know me
& I need you to have something to show me)
to you I'm maybe an enigma
or maybe just a *****
both are wrong anyway
I'm just a woman with an itch
to translate dreams into something more
to cure myself of my emotional sores
(lately the ones from you
I'd like to watch your lips turn blue
from running out of air when you speak of me
I know you're still checking up on me obsessively)
& I don't you know you either
but I know what you've made me see
and I see mostly everything
but choose not to speak
(so if you're wondering if I noticed
...I did)