March 5th, 2002.
I wish I could tell you how I feel,
I wish I could talk to you now - not your answering machine.
But how can I begin to tell you
The depths of my pain, across the shallows of our conversation?
It couldn't work.
You wouldn't understand
I suspect so,
But I'll never know
Because I cannot shout across our distance.
You've chosen to believe that everything's okay.
You never ask, how can I say?
Why I hurt, why my world has become a migraine
why I'm having those deadly thoughts again.
I know you're busy,
I'm trying to be patient and understanding.
But my world is ending
And I'm alone.
Where are you?
Did you ever say you'd be there?
There is only you in your world.
And from the fringes - in the cold,
I cannot make you hear me.