Something you haven't seen me in.
I used to be there, I was as much there as much as I could be, physically. Then I fell for the road, I patiently waited to leave. I left you kindly, I didn't bother you. I still won't be around to bother you. Your mind can either carry on and maybe flow, more neatly, maybe it will not flow and you will find yourself trying to bite your teeth. It's silly that I have to get rid of all this stocked up information of someone. My information is useless now, I'm trying hard to find a place to put it, or place it, or maybe even show it? I'm not bothered by the fact that I knew what was going on without words to direct me into an accurate feeling. I kept my feet fleeting, I kept my mind buzzed. Now, listen, I got pried at recently by someone. They pried you out of me. I started to drunkenly speak, I was mad, and I didn't feel like pulling the needle out of my pale winter skin. I did though, and I felt displayed. The words I was saying sprayed into the air, and I knew you were listening to me. Somewhere. I don't want you to hear me, I don't want to talk. The nights where I find myself drunk and am done drinking, I let myself fall asleep at other peoples places, inside their houses somewhere you will never be. It's comforting knowing I can see other people, and they seem to actually like me. I've been turning these people into projects, taking notes on them and enjoying their company, I don't know anything about them and I'm learning along the way. I've slept in a lot of places since you, I've slept by many people, and each person had their own feeling. I found them to be beautiful and they kept me warm. I don't know what it is, but I get carried a lot, now. Something you didn't do, you didn't carry me all that much, but I always loved it when you did. Now these people, I barely know pick me up when I'm asleep, and I end up somewhere safe. I can't answer why these people are so nice. I also wonder why they think they should place me somewhere else. Something I've said before, I would forgive the whole world, if it were as small as me. I would do it. I can only forgive my own world, unfortunately, for I am small I know. My mind isn't though, it's big and filling up. Someone told me I'm still heartbroken, and I promised them I'm not. I feel a lot less, more and more, everyday. I've noticed I'm forgetting a familiar face, but I do hang on to it, sometimes just because I know what ails. I have accepted the fact that you look at other people, and I know they look at you, too. To be honest that was my biggest fight. I didn't want them to look at you, or see you how I saw you. Somehow you allowed them to, and I'm now able to accept the loss. I know you won't carry me tomorrow, and tomorrow I won't be able to talk. Tomorrow I'll forget a little more.
Something you haven't seen me in.
I used to be there, I was as much there as much as I could be, physically. Then I fell for the road, I patiently waited to leave. I left you kindly, I didn't bother you. I still won't be around to bother you. Your mind can either carry on and maybe flow, more neatly, maybe it will not flow and you will find yourself trying to bite your teeth. It's silly that I have to get rid of all this stocked up information of someone. My information is useless now, I'm trying hard to find a place to put it, or place it, or maybe even show it? I'm not bothered by the fact that I knew what was going on without words to direct me into an accurate feeling. I kept my feet fleeting, I kept my mind buzzed. Now, listen, I got pried at recently by someone. They pried you out of me. I started to drunkenly speak, I was mad, and I didn't feel like pulling the needle out of my pale winter skin. I did though, and I felt displayed. The words I was saying sprayed into the air, and I knew you were listening to me. Somewhere. I don't want you to hear me, I don't want to talk. The nights where I find myself drunk and am done drinking, I let myself fall asleep at other peoples places, inside their houses somewhere you will never be. It's comforting knowing I can see other people, and they seem to actually like me. I've been turning these people into projects, taking notes on them and enjoying their company, I don't know anything about them and I'm learning along the way. I've slept in a lot of places since you, I've slept by many people, and each person had their own feeling. I found them to be beautiful and they kept me warm. I don't know what it is, but I get carried a lot, now. Something you didn't do, you didn't carry me all that much, but I always loved it when you did. Now these people, I barely know pick me up when I'm asleep, and I end up somewhere safe. I can't answer why these people are so nice. I also wonder why they think they should place me somewhere else. Something I've said before, I would forgive the whole world, if it were as small as me. I would do it. I can only forgive my own world, unfortunately, for I am small I know. My mind isn't though, it's big and filling up. Someone told me I'm still heartbroken, and I promised them I'm not. I feel a lot less, more and more, everyday. I've noticed I'm forgetting a familiar face, but I do hang on to it, sometimes just because I know what ails. I have accepted the fact that you look at other people, and I know they look at you, too. To be honest that was my biggest fight. I didn't want them to look at you, or see you how I saw you. Somehow you allowed them to, and I'm now able to accept the loss. I know you won't carry me tomorrow, and tomorrow I won't be able to talk. Tomorrow I'll forget a little more.