Forgive me, it's not me

When you tap my shoulder and I move aside  

Yes, a fragment of ache will surely reside  

The toughest of wars dawns on the inside  

And to halt in the bottomless, better stray by the seaside.  

I’ll come to thrust you away and hide behind the back  

Sometimes the soul gets tired, it’s far from an attack  

It exists good and bad in this sorrow, but sometimes it wins the black  

Those times when even crying, isn’t worth jack.  

When I slap away your hand, rather confiding on a sheet  

Those tears will wipe away the ink, that stucks between my teeth  

I’d rather save you from this heat, that drags underneath my feet  

The swelter that crushes me, with a hefty feeling of defeat.  

There are days the soul is drained, feeling ever so weak  

It lugs and tugs a twinge of madness, making it hard to speak  

With results unpredictable as the tomorrow, when it reaches to its peak  

Whatever, whoever surrounds it, it’s bound to along with it break.  

So, when I turn the other cheek, to hide from you my torment  

Remember yourself if I can’t, that it’s nothing but a passing moment  

When words fail to reveal, let yourself wide-eyed open and see  

That I’m asking for your forgiveness, because this melancholy is not me.