Waiting at the bus stop
Plagued by absent speech
A matter of semantics
Haunting me
Always in exile
To all the subtleties
I voiced a feeling too strong for me
You were my abandoned
I let you down
I was your exception for waiting around
We were too present in worlds that were unfound
We were too profound
Holding to a memory
Of a form of me who never did
Leave you wanting more and more each time
You were my abandoned
I let you down
I was your exception for waiting around
You were too present
I couldn't make a sound
Your heart was too loud
And I was too unsound

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