i'm running and i'm sick.
i'm rebuilding this house brick by brick.
i'm hopeful, and i'm wrong.
all this building is making me strong.
i hope someday we find our way,
but right now i just want to go away.
i want to forget,
i want to remember.
how sick am i, of you, pretender,
i am not yours,
but you want me for yourself.
i dont want this limbo.
i will watch you leave through the window.
come back when your ready,
we can gaze stars in some cemetery.
but right now i need solid,
constant, real, no "maybes".
just "yes"s and "no"s.
i'm sorry, but i'm starting to slow,
this thing you call your own.
1 is the loneliest number,
2 is a pair,
"we" is a word people use,
but you have to choose:
1 to be alone,
2 to be happy,
but only if you want me,
no insecurity.