Fugitive

Sometimes I feel like a fugitive.
Tension underneath my skin.
When I enter a room full of people I look for the nearest exit.
Looking into eyes, hoping they won't start talking.
I look at small things, distracting myself from the tension.
Hoping to escape when too much people are around.
At days like this it seems the world is against me or the other way around.
I share my feeling with a girl who can't and don't want to hear my sorrow anymore.
And she stands in her right for feeling that way.
I have to close this chapter and start a new one, on my own.
Stop hoping for a save return and build a new home.