Well I left home and moved into my head, where eyeballs act as windows to a world of pretense. Where hands don’t shake and eyes don’t meet, where clouds take the shape of memories.
I’m not okay
I’m not your friend
If we don’t talk then
This charade can end
Inaudible speech, that sound you’d make when I couldn’t sleep. Soft breath in my ear, and the rustling of sheets in the morning. I want to wake up in a house full of people that I know with your hands around my neck as I lean into your chest. Oh, remind me who I am before I completely forget.