The things you don’t know.  I won’t tell you.  I’ve had to do things, and I’ve been super emotional about other things.  You don’t understand me because you sit there, analyzing me by your own standards of what you think is correct.  “Are you depressed?,” he asks, with a straight face.  What makes you think that?  I’m sitting here, smiling, waiting for you to leave.  Maybe, just maybe, we will speak again in the future, but right now, the only thing I want to see you do is walk out the door.  Leave me by myself to enjoy my solitude.  To answer to no one and plan my next move.

Am I being mean?  I don’t care who you are and you don’t care who I am.  Is that wrong or bad?  Fuck you!  Irritated that you presume to know who I am when you don’t even bother asking the right questions.  Let me be.  Let me work.  Let me live.

My commitment to you is just imaginary.  You’re just another perfect face with big cow eyes that shields the emptiness inside.

I am free.

Day after day you waste away

I loved you, one time

Now, the depths of that love are blackened and have faded into a distant memory

So dark that I can barely see

It was a dream, or a nightmare

Whatever it was, it is no longer there


because I am free.


Author: butterflyafterlife

I'm a Assistant Director and producer for Indy Films/Shows, study as much as possible and love photography. Sometimes, I post about a thought in my head and let it take over from there. I love your support and feedback!