The words that you said they still haunt me,
You’d think that four years to heal the gaping wound in my chest would be good enough.
But apparently, that isn’t so,
I’d rather that you’d hit me,
It would have healed by now.
No-one has noticed this infection that I harbour,
Talking would help to heal it,
But I have sewn my mouth shut,
I don’t want to tell because no-one will listen,
Complaining makes people tire of you easily,
The world isn’t going to stop turning just because it hurts.
And it hurts in so many different ways,
I needed a hero, someone to save me,
None came and I fought alone,
The thorns around my heart grew with every minute spent in your company,
It seemed like something vital would give away.
Surviving is the hardest thing I’ve ever done,
Content in the fact it was done in spite of you – to spite you,
A lonely tightrope walk in the dead of night,
With only songs of hope and shared pain to guide the way,
The aftermath is more painful that the events,
I’d gotten used to it, that was what life was.
The past has made me cling tightly to others,
Fear of losing people, fear of them turning against me,
I’m not the sort of person to show all the cards in my hand,
It’s dangerous to have someone know too much about you,
I make sure to keep my distance now,
Love only from afar and not too much.