On the outside, never inside
Except for my internal monologue
That is deafening
And tells me things that I don't want to hear.
Like a blanket over the moon
My curiosity is suffocated.
Harsh words that you never say
Wound me deeper than a thousand knives.
It pains to ask why you're my friend
After seven years of knowing.
And I will lie in the dust,
As his friends fill his ears with unkind words,
Injuring his soul.
I will lie in the dust, I say,
And know and mourn
What could have been
Had you seen with your eyes what I had to say
Instead of hearing.