She is broken
See the thing about her is
I don’t really know if she’s broken
Unless she wants me to know
The irony is that at some point
I could almost swear she wanted to tell me
That she wasn’t okay, perhaps far from it
That she has rough nights way too often
That I should read in between the lines
That she recites in our silence
I think it’s my dimpled smile
That maybe makes her get cold feet
Like that may not be something
That I’d want to hear from her
I don’t know about anyone’s life
I hate how I trick myself into believing
That I might kinda somehow do
But no matter how close we can be
I have dark mosaics in my soul
That I don’t let people see
That’s just how I adjusted to life
Because we are all broken
In places we don’t bleed
And I want to tell her that I am too
But I know, I know all too well
Why she chooses to remain silent
And I Understand