I wonder how many notebooks I would have to fill,
If thoughts of you would exceed the life of my pen.
Probably, but then again I might get trapped in
all the things we never said.
I might get caught inside my head,
revisiting all the things that made me feel
like I was silly to think you would want me,
A brokenness that haunts me,
I'll set down my God forsaken pen
And stop writing.
I will remember how every conversation lead
with hard question
is accused of my want of a fight..
I have been fighting
All the hard parts alone.
I wonder how many note books I could fill
About feeling on my own.
I wonder how many notebooks I could fill
with all the parts of you, you never let me know.