Psycho

I wish not to be this difficult. Who do I have to blame? I say I've let go, but who am I to say? My actions speak the loudest. How does one heal? With wounds so deep, it feels almost impossible. With answers ungiven, how do you expect me to give you closure? I won't expect your belief, but these words are not intentionally hurtful. I have no control. My mind constantly in a marathon, so deprived. How I wish you had my certainty. I won't expect your belief, but you have my sympathy. If I shall be buried with nothing but perfumed bones and madness, let it be. I've tried. Help me, dear. Help not only you, but me understand.