It is still hurt when I looked back
Maybe the ghost from my old self blew the pain
Or maybe your voice was too loud pointing disappoint

Should I say sorry to the shoes I can't fit in?
Should I hold the guilt when I know what's best for me?
Should you twist me and tell the world I did the wrong?
And should it exist, the conversation for what didn't belong?

And for a while I call your name to let you know
that I am not sorry