Why do we do what we do?

This is supposed to be the beginning of things. The rebirth.
So why do I feel so sad?

Why did I wake up this morning with tears on my cheek?

Why do I feel so damn hollow?

I know there was never any intentional vindictiveness in what you did. You did what you do. What you always do.

I always knew it would end up the way it has. It was there in your eyes from day one. I saw it back then, but I guess I was too afraid to admit it. Or face it.

But face it I must, and face it I will, some day.

Just not today.

Not yet.