I cannot see, this happening to me
But now it is, indeed... It’s happening to me.

I’m light-headed from talking to myself.
And just as I’d dreaded, your answer is to up and run away.

 It’s not that I don’t trust you, your faith and loyalty
Are clear and plain to see; who I don’t trust...is me.

Could a spoonful of honey help this bitter tasting pill?
The penny mints may hide it some, it’s clear; but the mirror never will.

I cannot hear this pounding in my ears.
I cannot say these words I try to say. 
I cannot do the things I said I’d do.
I cannot breathe...