Stepping On Cracks

Pouring over theses pages searcing for an answer to a question I never even wanted to ask. But the fact remains you're gone and never looking back. Doesn't matter much cause I'm looking down anyways. My head's quite heavy these days. Weighed down by an honest lack of understanding. I gave you everything I had, you gave me nothing back. I'm pulling out my hair and planting all the roots. Touch the sun for me baby (get warm and burn out). My spine is broken, bent over backwards one too many times. It was never enough. And if you could fill these bags under my eyes, what would you put in them? Once again, you've got nothing left to give so I've limped my way into a corner and I'm bleeding miserably. Hand me another bandage will ya? So much time spent chasing ghosts, my life is haunted. So fucking haunted. I don't want anyone to see me like this. I won't let you see me like this. So close your eyes and just walk away. Your eyes betray what your lips won't say. Agony the world will never see. All I'm losing is me.