I've distanced myself again.   Awkward around my friends.   I can't be what she needs.   I rejoice as I bleed.      I don't need their shelter,   I reject their lies.   Forced to prod and dig,   and it's killing me inside.   It's not about forgetting,   Or learning to cope.   It's about control,   and salvaging some hope.      I sit all alone.   Trying to dissect myself.   Trying to sort out,   just who I am.      Too many hours spent   trying to be understood.   Explain in vain,   They think that they're in sync with me.   If they only knew,   Just what I was thinking,   They'd be too scared.   Too scared to fucking sleep.      Zero.