When I was alone,
I heard you speak to me
in every song the hospital radio played.
I've done the best I can,
I won't be here tomorrow,
sometimes goodbye is a second chance.
It wasn't ours,
it was a goodbye
to a set of circumstances
that grew old.
I honestly thought my life was over,
just a whisper in my ear,
all I could remember was trying to take my life.
I didn't even realize I was still alive,
so imagine not knowing your spirit still thrives
in your, living, breathing body.
I mourned myself,
became someone else,
first afraid, then bitter,
and every kind of person imaginable
but eventually stronger.
I wanted to go, needed to go
sick of swimming against the current;
letting my delusions drown me with fear,
anxiety, depression,
the feeling of being trapped in myself,
the surreal version of the world I saw,
and still see sometimes today.
Let's bring back some bad memories
of actions with no explanations,
was I just dreaming?
I couldn't sleep,
I could never sleep.
So, how could that be?
