I'm afraid of safety, I'm afraid of help.
I'm afraid of telling anyone else.
I don't want sympathy, I don't want you to care.
I just want to be alone and pull out my hair.

But still you seem to try, you keep telling me "No,"
"You must listen, keep your chin up, I'm not going to go."
I'm fine on my own, I don't need you any more.
I tell you, leave me be, stop turning up at my door.

Then the darkness returns, and you're nowhere around.
I regret what I said in that stupid little row.
Forget all the moaning, forget my ill-chosen words.
I promise I didn't mean it, all of that was absurd.

Though I hate to admit it, and strange as it sounds,
Things always seem darker when you're not around.
You were right, I was wrong, you win, end of game,
I was foolish, especially knowing you've been through the same.

Though all along I told myself: I prefer to be alone,
I was missing by a mile and you got it in one.
What I really need now, is not solitude or pain,
But just a message asking "Are you alright?" again.

*Thank you and keep trying, ignore my deadly rage,
What I really need I had all along, a friend about my age.