mirrors, tears and years
This morning as I drove to work I started to miss my old life with you.
By 4pm we were arguing and I was happy to be driving to my own apartment.
You pretend that you don't like to cause me pain, but always stick your fingers directly into my wounds.
I don't let you see me cry anymore, I just spit in your face.
I don't let you see me cry anymore, because my pillows have given me more softness & comfort than you ever could.
I don't let you see me cry anymore, but I still do
everyday it seems.
It's hard not be cliché and rhyme tears with years
but it's been almost 2 and they just don't stop coming.
I'm starting to lose time again; remember about the time I was driving.
I was driving
down the roads I've driven the last 15 years of my life
and I got lost.
And I lost time
and I was scared.
We had fought about money again and I looked up and I had no idea where I was
or how I had gotten there.
That's how I been feelin' when I look into mirrors
holding back tears
wishing there were years.
It's not my old life I miss today.
I miss the new normal that has yet to be born out of this fucking nightmare.