Some things are better left unsaid,
Like the fact that I know you aren't my fan,
Like the fact that you have pretended to care,
When care and concern were no longer present.
Some things are better left unsaid,
Like harsh words of how you hate my soul,
Like how you feel about everything I do,
Even though I don't do anything for you to appreciate.
And then there is a sense of something.
A void not able to be filled with love
Is now filled with dread,
Filled with the anger of a mistreated youth,
Now an adult.
So when you think that some things are better left unsaid,
I disagree. I need to hear something from you,
Just so that I know you still believe in me.