Stranger

I’ve built myself around

What I can’t bare to claim

I’ve painted over all the walls

But they still seem the same

I sit withered in the box, sit withered alone

I held a friend from coming back I told him I didn’t know

This was never anything

The idea that I could be

Wholly reduced from the bottom of everything

I felt foreign in my own hands

Convinced that I’m not a man that could righteously forgive like he ought to be