Alone With My Guitar

What is it exactly that you want to hear?
That I lock myself in my room and clumsily play my guitar?
While I sing a series of songs that remind me of you?
If this is what you're wanting to know then yes, it's true.
That my hair is messy and I haven't slept properly in days?
My eyes are sore from the salty tears I've been crying?
My nailpolish is chipped and my head is in a spin?
Then yes, it's true - and now I'm too afraid to let anyone else in.
I don't understand how everything could change in the blink of an eye.
You were here one day, and gone the next.
What is it exactly you hoped to gain?
Why did you blame it on me when you were the one who pushed me away?
Do you want me to admit how much I miss you?
Are you wanting me to confess I secretly fell head over heels?
Would it make you happy to know this hurts more than it should?
If I could find the courage to say it to your face then of course I would!
My guitar plays a lonely tune, as if the strings are broken.
A little like my heart.
Would you like me to vanish and pretend I was never there?
Your response to my questions are as if you never cared.
Do you wish that I would cry in front of you instead of in my room?
Would you like me to beg you like a slave on their knees?
Would you like to actually hear my lonely song?
I can't allow you to come back inside, because my healing takes too long.
No more questions now because this is the final chapter in our tale.
Privately, my guitar and I will walk alone.
A silent song without you, not revealing to you how I really feel.
Little will you actually admit, you were never the "real deal".


Written by Jeska Brewster on 10.8.2010 (c)