The first hours are always easy
I'm good at goodbyes
to dive into another adventure.
Then the first day I keep myself occupied with chores and errands
with unnecessary actions to escape from my fears of fucking up.
Then by day two I doubt my feelings and thoughts.
I want to run back to safety.
I need the feeling of being with you, of feeling needed.
Then as time passes I somehow find ways of coping with losing you.
I figure out life is better without you and convince myself all is good.
But deep down, my heart still screams for your protective hands and safe chest.
Forgetting that all you gave me were false hopes,
deceitful ambitions and a promise of a life that would have torn me apart...