I'm afraid to talk about the past
I don't want to reopen those wounds
and go through it all again
Still, I constantly worry about it
I know it will come back
it's just waiting for its time
When I think about it,
my chest hurts,
and my mind won't let me sleep,
analyzing every part of it
I know that when it comes,
I don't want to be alone,
but I don't want to be judged either,
so I prefer to just disappear
I know it will fade away,
but it will come again.