Me & She


There she sits alone in a box not her own, Took a wrong turn or two, Maybe a few too many drinks were had, Maybe she just couldn't reach the dreams she had,Maybe she was tired of being alone, Maybe just maybe she just wanted to feel at home. It's not comfortable in your own skin when everything's isn't numbed by the drugs, why is it that no one ever stays on the same page, at least not with it seems, I may be the problem that I'm not willing to see, see here's the thing I try so hard to do the right thing, it's so easy to point the blame on the one whose mood swings the highest, but in reality we both sit upon the same swing, so I sit and I'll watch her try not to weep, it never works the cheers are too heavy not to flow, too many of them to keep locked up inside, then I suddenly realize it's my eyes that refuse to stay dry, it's me who sits alone crying, for I am She.

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My mind finds a way out of it's confusion through writing...