I think I liked it better, when we argued on a non-stop basis,
Until our faces were blue, and eyes red, and vocies hoarse
I loved it even more, when we were little, and we played,
and you actually liked me, and I adored you
I'll be damned if I can remember the last time we had a conversation,
I mean, a meaningful one, that wasn't painful and awkward,
or just painfully awkward
I'd love to say it's just the way people grow apart, but I can't help but think
I pushed in a way that made you forcfully grow away from me
I'd personally like to stand up and apoligize for any bottons I pushed,
that were not meant to be pushed,
and any annoyance I caused, that caused you to hate me so much,
that you don't even tell me happy birthday when I turn fifteen
Doesn't it make you sad, that you probably could even guess if asked,
My favorite color, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't even know my age
I know I liked it better when we argued, not even the meanest words could cut as deep,
as the sharp knife of silence that has plauged are relationship for years
Sunday, June 7, 2009
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