I know that I’m just happy,
but you really think I’ve changed.
Socially less awkward,
and yet I feel estranged.
With every tense knit silence,
I don't like what you see.
Your eyes vent verbal violence,
I’m nursing the debris.
You know my faults, 
and all my wrongs,
my every last mistake.
Just please pretend; 
we're what we were, 
if just for memories sake.