“You can tell me,” I whisper to the wind.
“It’s worthless now,” I almost hear, whistled through the trees.
I can’t, I won’t
I’m done, and I feel too alone to accept it.
All I have is myself, and I’m not listening.
Drowning in my own thoughts,
A pool of notes to self and notes to songs.
Songs I never wrote,
Songs that let me relive again,
The feeling of hiding from the girls on the street.
The girls that once were part of me,
They’re so far away now, their presence disappeared.
It’s hard to respect them now, they forgot how to respect me.
Young but not so innocent; they treated me like I wasn’t human,
But where are they now, and do they have an ounce of care,
For an old friend years later?
“It’s worthless now,” I almost hear, whistled through the trees.
I can’t, I won’t
I’m done, and I feel too alone to accept it.
All I have is myself, and I’m not listening.
Drowning in my own thoughts,
A pool of notes to self and notes to songs.
Songs I never wrote,
Songs that let me relive again,
The feeling of hiding from the girls on the street.
The girls that once were part of me,
They’re so far away now, their presence disappeared.
It’s hard to respect them now, they forgot how to respect me.
Young but not so innocent; they treated me like I wasn’t human,
But where are they now, and do they have an ounce of care,
For an old friend years later?
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