Making Sure You’re Fine
I’ve stopped trying to convince you I’m doing better
since. I’ve stopped trying to save face; I can’t be
your saving grace. I can’t walk inside your shoes,
can’t relate to what you do. Can’t look into the
world of the person in a girl.
Take my hand baby…it’s dying of cold and exposure.
It’s too late now, in every sense of the word. Is
that your closure?
I’m not who I want to be or what you seemed to think
was me, but that’s not why I called (you still think
you know it all). I’m just making sure you’re fine,
and yes, I know that you’re not mine, but its good to
catch up once or twice, ill call you in three months