Echoes of a Thought

It’s hard for me to write this down,
Especially since you won’t listen long enough to hear it all.
So what’s really the point in the end?
To get it out and leave it there, I guess.

I may not mean everything I say,
But at least I’m not addicted to attention.
No, that’s not true, you hardly say enough to me or anyone
To make them notice you at all.

You won’t even talk to me anymore,
Unless I start first.
And even then the conversation ends
Before you or I can say anything

Of importance or actually felt,
But I guess it doesn’t matter to you
If I were to drown on air in the next room
All because you blankly stared when I said, “You don’t care”.

Is it so hard to open up and start playing games?
You do it all the time with whatsername
And she won’t be there soon
(I’ll make sure of that).

I’d rather see you frown than fake a smile,
Because it’s just a lie anyways.
You’re really just dying inside that mind of yours,
Where only scars remain
Of past events that didn’t affect anyone as deeply.

If only you hated me,
Then maybe I would know that your emotions are real
And not some figment of my imagination
(Are they? Can’t you tell me at all?).

You know I’m just a love letter away
From taking all that’s here and throwing it off a bridge.
But I can’t do that to you,
Because there’s no hope left if I do
And I’ve got to leave a bit for you,
Even if you don’t use it.