First, you were mine...

kept thinking we were in sync, somehow.

When you were mine, your heart wanted to burst out of your chest and jump into someone else's arms, so they could hear it beating.

I couldn't make you feel what you wanted to feel.

Now that I think on it,

I don't think I gave you much of anything.

Even though my arms were holding a bowlful of everything good that I (thought) I had to offer.

No being carries the title of perfection,

but I tried my very best to give you my finest understanding; my upmost comprehension.

Now, I see that you are just like everyone else outside of the world I'm in; outside of the bubble that I'm in.

It makes me sink deeper into a sloppy mud of confusion and a gritty stupidity...

but I shut my mouth.

I shut my mouth, and store the pain away.

I shut my mouth, and I try to convince my mind that I am not lonely, and that there is truth...

but my heart is screaming loudly, telling me otherwise.

I try not to listen. I try not to let that division crash.

I swallow it like a pill,

but it doesn't kill my pain.