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Are You Missing Me, Like I Am Missing You....
Unanswered questions that race through my mind. Things that only you can answer but you stay silent believing other people's lies and stories too. Never once have you thought to believe in me. Not once did you give any credit to me. Always you assumed I was just like the others. So many times I would ask you who was telling you the things you were accusing me of... never, not once would you tell me who just blamed me for being the same as the others before me.
Was there ever a thought in your mind... when you were being told those things and you would rush in to catch what supposedly was still happening.... was not really going on.... that someone was playing a sick game that was causing us both a lot of hurts and pain? That it wasn'tuu me you had to truly worry about but the one who was telling you all those lies? The lies that you carried around with you and told others too. Do you sit and think to yourself what the hell did I do? Or ask yourself how can I ever fix any of the things that I said or I did? Do you ever sit and think about me? Wonder where I am? If I am wishing on a star to know where you are? If I am still crying myself to sleep? If I am still waiting for you to knock on the door and when I ask who it is, you respond with "me"? Do you question if I will even open it after all this time?
For me, everything is water under a bridge. I don't hold grudges.. i don't know how to. I was never shown how to hate anyone only to always forgive everyone. For me to dislike someone is so foreign to me, but I have learned over the years about trust. It's confusing when you only see the world through rose colored glasses. See people like me don't understand why people can be so mean, like to hurt others, and would rather break someone down instead of filling up their cup. We always look for the positive and good side in everyone and everything. This thing called "trust" is something that we give away to easily. Its not that i enjoy being hurt or want to continue with the pain... i just don't seem to understand how to let go of anyone I love and whose says they love me too.
Where are you tonight? Are you thinking of me while i am thinking of you? Does your heart skip a beat when you think of holding my hand like mine does every time i think of you?
© Rhonda Broker
Was there ever a thought in your mind... when you were being told those things and you would rush in to catch what supposedly was still happening.... was not really going on.... that someone was playing a sick game that was causing us both a lot of hurts and pain? That it wasn'tuu me you had to truly worry about but the one who was telling you all those lies? The lies that you carried around with you and told others too. Do you sit and think to yourself what the hell did I do? Or ask yourself how can I ever fix any of the things that I said or I did? Do you ever sit and think about me? Wonder where I am? If I am wishing on a star to know where you are? If I am still crying myself to sleep? If I am still waiting for you to knock on the door and when I ask who it is, you respond with "me"? Do you question if I will even open it after all this time?
For me, everything is water under a bridge. I don't hold grudges.. i don't know how to. I was never shown how to hate anyone only to always forgive everyone. For me to dislike someone is so foreign to me, but I have learned over the years about trust. It's confusing when you only see the world through rose colored glasses. See people like me don't understand why people can be so mean, like to hurt others, and would rather break someone down instead of filling up their cup. We always look for the positive and good side in everyone and everything. This thing called "trust" is something that we give away to easily. Its not that i enjoy being hurt or want to continue with the pain... i just don't seem to understand how to let go of anyone I love and whose says they love me too.
Where are you tonight? Are you thinking of me while i am thinking of you? Does your heart skip a beat when you think of holding my hand like mine does every time i think of you?
© Rhonda Broker
