i'm tired and insecure breathing only words left in traces by your door
i still think of you some mornings when the sun cuts through the blinds but the mess inside my room is all i ever seem to find and it's nothing but a reflection of my state of mind i thought i'd be fine by now but the doubt you left me with it makes me question everything
everytime you had that look of doubt in your eyes i know it was him who was running through the back of your mind he'll never give you the things i did you'll still crawl out from the curb he threw you to and run back to him
i'll force myself up today, push myself out that front door again i'll take these worn and heavy feet along the same familiar streets (i still miss the ones that led to your door but i know you only ever walk the ones that led to his)
everytime you had that look of doubt in your eyes i know it was him who was running through the back of your mind he'll never give you the things i did you'll still crawl out from the curb he threw you to and run back to him
and i hope that bed breaks when he sits down on it i've left out a screw on my side with his name on it (and i hope when you wake that he's not lying next to you cause i am the sun through those blinds burning over you)
and your hands feel different now that his prints have covered up where mine used to be and it's taken me nearly two years to see that the things that you never gave weren't meant to be and i know that i'll move on soon if i had better things to do, if i had better things to do