Grow Old

This wasn’t supposed to be external But it seems I’ve made a mess This wasn’t meant to be special Now its nagging me confess Don’t talk to me I could improvise solutions I could try to reframe Until I’m left with your admission That I’m not all there is to blame I could lie to be gentle We will never be the same The more adamant I am that it’s the surface The more the walls begin to flake Don’t talk to me Don’t talk to me Keeping count As if the hurt could balance Don’t walk with me Your dirty feet are obvious And how could you brag confidence A willing keen participant In rolling waves of incidents You’ve made your bed now sleep in it you prince They would’ve flared out like summer Just some pictures I could keep Your memory’s inventive I won’t ever fall asleep And now I’m sorry for explaining How you fucked it up again Now I’m watching you backpedal I wasn’t supposed to feel ashamed