And misinterpreted is all I ever feel.
And it's my fault.
Vibes and words not always lining with intentions that are only ever later realized
cause I don't know where I stand,
maybe I prefer to sit.
I'm mad at you cause I can't ever find the words and actions I feel satisfied with. You don't see me so how do you know me.
Mad cause your intentions get me lost as I hope for more than the surface.
Honey, you're sticky and I don't know how to be washed clean
Mostly.
Mad because I just plain old miss your voice.
And sad at the thought of hearing it.
I am mad at me. Please forgive me each time so I can try to do it on my own one day.
Few even knew.
And maybe that's the problem.
You think you'll be remembered but you weren't even known.
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