After getting off the phone with you,
I sit in the bathtub to make sense of the feeling that i'm drowning.
I blame it on the water, my soul isn't heavy it's the soapy water encasing my body.
It's time to be honest.
I don't pick up the phone because i'm scared of the repercussion.
I'm scared to feel myself sink back into a shell that I threw away a year ago with the memory of the pain.
But you know me, I don't throw anything away, I tuck it into a dark corner and say "maybe i'll need it again."
I don't talk a lot because thoughts of I miss you, come home, you made me so sad, you made me so happy, you made me ME, keep running through my head that an unmeaningful conversation about what's on TV doesn't flow.
No, I don't remember anything from when we were young i've hidden it from myself, but yes i'll tell you I remember just so you can tell the story because I know it makes you feel something.
Yes, i'm just as numb as you are and I know you didn't ask, but everytime you say you're just tired I want to say "me too."
Tired of fighting, tired of displaying feelings, tired of hanging myself out to dry after the flood has passed.
So now, I sit in my bathtub moving the water with my feet, remembering doing the same in the river water last time you made me feel pain.
a.n.F