*You*

Poetry is the pain I'm writing while I'm lonely
Scratching this my glass window with a piece of diamond
Burning the skin on the tips of my fingers with a bic lighter you can get at any major gas station for a buck twenty nine
And you are something I haven't quite figured out quite yet
Can you tell when someone likes you
Can you feel them thinking about you
Do you read into every gaze
Or are you just there, not watching, not listening
Just being exactly who you are and not being someone who looks at things as if they're mirrors
I was wondering, if you had the time, did you want to...
I heard a voice outside
The echo of a criminal
But there's nothing out there and there's nothing in here
I'm nothing
But you are exactly what you are when I'm not around
And I'm not here
So you can be there
And you won't even have to bother
Because I won't let myself be