I pick myself off the floor, and then you tell me, I’m done with you. You don’t realize the blood all over your hands, was this all a part of your plans? I love you, I hate you, I just can’t live without you. I hear voices in my head, telling me don’t be so blind. But then I guess I’m done with you and I still don’t quite get it.
Never. Quite.
The whispers grow incessant. And as I walk out of the door, all I can hear is the same. I ask you even as the sounds grow louder. And curiously, they all resemble the slamming of doors. In all directions, of glass shattering and imploding in on me. I instinctively raise my hands to ward off the exploding shards, then I realize it’s just me. And nothing all around for miles. I need to come to terms with this shroud of solitude being wrapped around my consciousness. And I concur in silence. That I’m done with you, aye.
- Inspired by Always (International Radio Edit): Saliva (Alternative Rock)
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