Still

She has all the answers, and all the right questions,
She has all the lies, and all the details of the truth.
She is everything, you would rather be,
And all the jealousy in between.
She won’t comfort no one, with her Satan glance,
All in all, she is all for herself,
And those bittersweet eyes, how they stare at me,
As I stare into the sky.
And I’m going, nowhere, to maybe, to yeah,
Coming down it always seems like your almost there,
And those two cats on that windowsill,
making fire, while your fire burns in me,
Still.
She has reason enough, to love to hate to love,
She won’t even ask your name,
Yeah it’s kind of sickening isn’t it, to know your own vunerabilities?
What’s even sicker is knowing you almost feel the same.

(Writer's thoughts here)