I was just a little girl Watching chaos unravel, helplessly Confusion became a daily routine Silence, my only defense And I honed the art of observing pain.
Day by day I saved up pieces of disappointment Until the jar began to crack Spilling exhaustion Hardening into quiet rebellion Sharpening into well-trained disgust.
We stopped looking, even beneath the bed Where is the sorry we deserved? Where is the responsibility you clung to so tightly? Where is all the change you once promised?
But whatever You're here, technically And us? We've mastered the art of needing nothing from you.
I'm sorry. It's tiring to keep it all alone. We tried to talk. But you're the only one who always ends up being the victim, as if nothing ever happened.