I spent days hiding in headphones and nights hiding in my head. And as route 59 left me feeling more uncertain, you made your resentment crystal clear everywhere except in person. This summer was the first time I remembered to bite my tongue instead of lose my temper. Now I'm spitting out my blood while you're spitting weighted words. You don't care what you say, you just care if you get heard. I spent days trying to figure out why these nights are never what we dreamed about. I feel like a stranger in the most familiar places with the most familiar faces. When I get home I'm hiding my telephone underneath my pillow so I can't hear it ringing, cause I don't want to hear it today.