Bogus

I sit in my room upon starting over like a captive teenage girl waiting on a love that feels far from over but I never got to hold him so I don't know if it's true I just know that I'll need something else to do a new comfort character someone to reside in as the room grows dark my feelings somehow dilate and I can feel remnants of what I've tried to subdue in fear of seeking crazy over you but maybe crazy is the role I get to play. because these remnants and sensations encourage these displays. I'm afraid I'm just a little nuts that you probably prefer someone else the place I stay is not very loving so I find comfort in imagine you'd soon keep me company I haven't been so vulnerable in ages I guess it's therapy for me, filling out these empty pages