Silence.

I think I must be fond of misery
for I depend on you guys to be there for me
and I know better by now.
All I do is waste my time
waiting on promises that will never be
and I don't give up
I sit and wait
far after the possible timing has gone
and faded away.
I'm hopeful for foolish things,
unrealistic dreams of smiles and laughter
and I know I shouldn't even bother
to chase this happiness I am after.
I'll never catch up to all the smiles and the jokes
because for ever here I will be waiting
just incase you want to turn around
instead of go.
You always apologize with all these excuses
that merely serves the purpose of getting my hope up
so next time it might hurt somemore.
Don't you think it's kind of cruel,
to punish me in the one way which I am weak?
I promise myself everyday
that tomorrow is the day I will no longer speak.
It's a test to see if it will hurt you,
it's a test to see if I matter-
but I never carry out my silence,
for I fear what I might find.
I fear you might live on without me,
even if you are the reason I am dying.