I got my own hell to raise.
I tell you how I feel, but you don't care
I guess I've reached a place where the things I have to say cannot really be said here. And, I hate that judgement keeps me from it.
Topics possibly already covered, should be covered, will not be covered. Push it back under the rug. Back in torn boxes with labels no longer appropriate. Some revelations will be kept in the tuna can I'm using as an ash tray.
I say tell me the truth, but you don't dare
I guess there were questions I should have asked long ago, but I don't want the answers to them, because the answers will be lies, like the truth, and if it's the truth, I can't know.
Words will run circles around, and I will not hear it, only read it, and read into it, out and above it.
You say love is a hell you cannot bear
This thing is mocking me.
And I say give me mine back and then go there for all I care