Beneath the surface

Is there ever really a right time?
You had led me to believe someday you’d be there for me,
when the stars above aligned,
when you weren’t so consumed.
I kept looking for the clues.
So I waited in the shadows of my heart
and still the time was never right.

Until one day I stopped caring,
and began to forget why I longed to be so close.
And I disappeared into the darkness,
and the darkness turned to pain,
and never went away,
until all that remained was buried
deep beneath the surface.

A shell of what things could’ve been,
tired bones beneath them,
of guarded secrets all too frail.
Sad to think I never knew,
you were searching for the words, for the moment to emerge.
Yet the moment never came.
You couldn’t risk my fragile frame.

Until one day you stopped caring,
and began to forget why you tried to be so close.
And you disappeared into the darkness,
and the darkness turned to pain,
and never went away,
until all that remained was buried
deep beneath the surface.

I would scream just to be heard,
as if yelling at the stars.
I was bleeding just to feel.
You would never say a word;
kept me reaching in the dark,
always something to conceal.

Until one day I stopped caring,
and began to forget why I longed to be so close.
And I disappeared into the darkness,
and the darkness turned to pain,
and never went away,
until all that remained was buried
deep beneath the surface.