Sitting across from you
While you're dressed in matching green,
Listening to the sound of your voice stringing together words
In a long line that doesn't make an ounce of sense.
"Time, date, day.
Time, date, day.
What's your name again?"
I try to find you,
but you don't seem to be home.
I've been here before.
Only it wasn't you,
It was him.
I've already heard the nonsensical ramblings of a mind that didn't belong.
I've seen the vacancy sign flicker in a pair of eyes
I no longer recognized.
I've been here before.
And it strikes a chord inside.
One that has strings connected to the notes of fear and dread.
Their sound is deafening as it runs through the blood in my veins.
Cause you see,
I've been here before.
And it wasn't exactly here,
But it was there.
And it wasn't exactly your eyes,
Your words,
Your voice rambling incomprehensible nonsense.
It was his.
It's all just a little too familiar though.
When I see vacant eyes,
And hear the voice of nonsense,
It makes me remember all too well.
You weren't there,
But he was.
And his hand was wrapped around the stock of a pistol,
With his index finger resting on a trigger,
All connected to the barrel
That pressed against my head.
And in the other hand he held the knife
That glistened in my line of sight.
Now I know that wasn't you,
And I'm not saying that's what's I think you'll do,
But...
Eyes, looks, words, tone of voice,
And rambles of a mind that is temporarily not your own,
Triggers something inside.
I see it flash before my eyes.
Only this time?
He's not the one in my line of sight,
It's you.
And you may not be using the same mechanics he did,
But the intent and action is the same.
You want to hurt me.
And you coming at me
Is what flashes before my eyes.
Now I'm not so far gone from reality
That my mind thinks this is actually happening.
I'm aware it's just an illusion
Caused by something along the lines of P.T.S.D.
I'm even able to think that my thoughts may be irrational.
But my body?
Well she's a fool,
And she thinks the illusion is reality,
As she trembles with the fear of staring death in the eye.
And you see,
I know what comes next.
Because remember?
I've been here before.
And what comes next scares me too,
Because you're someone that I love.
I am alive,
Which means he obviously didn't pull that trigger.
His eyes flipped the switch from vacancy to occupied.
And they saw his wife
With the barrel of a pistol pressed to her head.
And he saw the hand holding the pistol was connected to the arm
That was connected to the man
That was himself.
That's when he walked in the other room and shot himself.
I've been here before.
And I can't go back there again.
