Ah, it's cold, I like how the warmth has faded.
I'd like to taste the heart that's been beating
just to know the sickening flavor of hurt.
But I'm pretty sure it ain't sweet,
it ain't lovely and probably a wrenching,
lip-biting, chest-clawing feeling again.
I don't use an umbrella, I don't bring it with me
but there was a heavy rain, so I walked and walked
with my soaking wet hair, I went back to nowhere.
I might have lost the battle with loneliness
and perhaps hurt too.
I can't change the past,
but the past is killing bits of my future
and I hurt everywhere, I know it's mistrust.
The same eyes, those cliched words;
it's the hundredth and one time I've heard.
I know how it goes, better than you know the words
and there's the comfort in the hurting,
where you'd just tear your world down.
There's no world here. It's mistrust.