They're asleep in the next room,
I should be asleep to,
But I know it'll be a few more hours before I finally drift away,
My minds too busy retracing every inch of the things we've said,
I wish I didn't write about you so much,
I want to write about something different but almost every thought is consumed by you and I can't seem to understand why,
Sometimes when I'm alone I can pretend your sitting next to me,
And I miss you,
But when I see your face I feel anguished,
Almost ambushed,
And I run as fast as I can just to escape,
But you'll never notice,
Maybe that's a good thing,
You don't know how badly you actually hurt me,
I don't think you know how deep your blade cut into me,
It's really so fucked,
Because,
Even after you completely sliced me open
and left me with a ripped out heart,
to bleed and die,
I still want to be there for you,
to put a bandaid,
on all of your paper cuts,
And hold your hand when you cross the street.
Codependency; that's what she called it,
"You should talk to your therapist about it"
But I didn't tell her,
I'm only codependent with you.
And I didn't really mention to her,
the part when I told you I only ask about you so much,
Because I worry about you,
And all you said was,
"Okay."
