I once thought my all would be everything you would ever need. That my comfort would be enough to cover all the hurt and every drop you would ever be forced to bleed. But it turned out it wasn’t enough to fill even half of the emptiness you had inside. It left more than enough space for fear and doubt to hide. I grew weary of fighting and stripped myself of the symbol of our trust. I hung my head in shame, and accepted that I was just never enough. But even as time passed by, I left the door open for you to sneak back inside. I kept reaching into the dark, if maybe I got lucky, and could get a hold of you as you passed me by. Now my house has turned cold, ‘cause I still haven’t learned how to entirely close the door. I keep my hands raised just in case, if someone wandered in to lift my body up from the floor. And on some days I just try to keep myself breathing, ‘cause it’s really all that I can do. The only thing that has changed between us, the only thing that has changed. Is you.