Not finished

If I could I'd tell you how I really feel, I'd tell you all my worries, and how at night I feel the loneliest of loneliest. I'd stay late at night brushing your hair, watch you sleep while I think these things and wonder to myself why I never say them, truth is somethings still don't come easy and if they weren't easy before it's not easy now with everything I've been put through. You can't expect me to forget everything and nod my head in yes, when everything is alright but it really isn't. It's easy to lie to someone and easy for me to act the fool and act cool about things, as I am the way I am things won't change in what I always thought and it's only a matter of time before I give up, they're things that are greater than me and the beliefs that make me, me wouldn't be me if I don't stand by them; my worth is important and when I feel something has bruised that it's an automatic NO to myself. It's not right and it's not fair, it's insecurities and doubt that actually dwell on and that's not living.