trying to find some sort of comfort or peace or relief in this unbearable place
turn back the clock turn back the clock turn back the clock
saying it won't make it happen
saying it over and over makes it worse
makes me feel like a child, foolish and out of control
hoping to regain this missing piece of me
feeling your presence in your absence confuses me
makes me cry makes me sob in the car in the store
you never yelled you never criticized you never blamed
even when you should have
and the past is in the past but this is still so here
and my fingers type mindlessly and my pen writes without pause
but nothing comes out that makes this better that makes this anything but reality.