My side of the bed is warm and toasty, take all the blankets you need.

The light from my phone is not what woke you, but you feel free to keep ignoring my tears.

The words I share with you in those tiny notes I leave for you were ripped from my soul, but don’t worry about acknowledging them.

My hiding is part of our problem, but your inability to hear me is a bigger one.

So, I’ll do what I want. I’ll chose what I think is best. I’ll let you submit to me.

But don’t be surprised when the light leaves my eyes. And you’re left with YOUR reality.