I'm comfy alone, no silence to fill, the days drag along but outside I remain chill.
Inside is turmoil, conflict, and debates,
This mind is paradoxical and no one escapes.
I can picture all futures, happy or sad, with or without you, either way I'm still mad.
To think I don't miss you, is an excruciating cut, maybe I couldn't stay but that doesn't mean it wasn't love.
Maybe I ruined it or maybe I was blind, I can hear your voice each night like a sacred lullaby.
I know I'll gain no favors, and you think curiosity killed the cat, but to not have your thousand questions about my day you truly believe I want that?
I guess these grounds are haunted, and I made things exponentially worse,
I have always viewed you like my blessing,
maybe I was your curse.