Sitting in your cold, dark basement
it's been three days I think to myself
it's been three days since you got out
out of that place. that place you went
after that night. that night you tried to die
and here we are, sitting, not talking
"why?" I ask you
"why what?" you ask back
"why'd you do it?" I'm so confused
we're talking
now you're yelling
screaming at me. I don't know why
I can't hear what you're saying
I'm sitting. just staring at your face
I've never seen you this angry
I'm scared. so scared.
all of the sudden I'm yelling back
screaming at you
but I don't mean what I'm saying
I can't stop myself
you leave. run up the steps
I hear your footsteps in the kitchen. pacing.
next thing I know, I'm sitting on the couch
a bottle of pills in front of me
a bottle of tequilla next to it
I'm just staring. and thinking.
thinking how nice it would be
thinking how I could end it all right now
you're back, you look so scared
you ask me what I took
tears are running down my face
I shake my head
you sit down. grab my hand.
we don't speak.
everytime I relive this, everytime I tell myself
it's just a dream
this is the dream. or nightmare
the reoccurring nightmare
I know it's real, I know it happened
but pretending it's just a dream is so much easier
