as time goes by
i find myself
drifting closer to saying goodbye.

because i'm scared
to show you all that's inside
when all that's there are empty lies.

when will i be able to tell you this
i wonder?
perhaps never but remember me clear

i don't open up like a flower in the spring
perhaps you found me pretty as a bud.
but I will firmly stay shut
since i don't want the harsh wind to blow my petals away.

a passerby may find them pretty
but they are all my tears that they don't know.
so my dear,

closed as i may be
i only fear
that one day you may flee from me.