I was the one who stood by your bedroom door.
I watched you cry.
But I didn't say anything.
I was afraid you'd give me the cold shoulder.
Tell me to go.
You don't need my help.
You don't need me.
So, before you noticed I was there
I left.
I couldn't bare hearing you hate me.
I'm so tired of always having to walk away.
I always have to be the one to look the other way.
Turn the other cheek.
Pretend what you said meant nothing.
That you didn't kill me inside.
But I'm getting sick of never telling you what I'm thinking.
Why I'm so afraid you'll hate me.
Why I always walk away before you see me standing at your bedroom door
watching you cry
without ever saying a word
and leaving before you even notice
that I was standing there in the first place.
