The Question Is How

I was blind--blinded by an innocence that vanished along with you. I won't deny your actions wounded me. When you were through with me, I couldn't accept the truth. Feel the salt sting in my open hands. The burn reminds me what I can withstand. And I can handle your backhand, though...I've just got to know how did this happen to me? I wanted to believe every word you said, but I'll just let it be. I'll let you go on pretending that you're dead. So the lesson I've learned--who do we really know? No one lets the truth be shown--we find out the hard way. You think a person's changed, but people don't change--they're always the same. You never know all along they were that way. Though my disappointment shows I only wanna know...you may already be dead. I needed you...there...you weren't there...but I have the right to know.