I find that I cannot remember,
if I was living for me
or if I was living for us.
If what we had was real,
or if I believed what I wanted to.

I find that I can recount the words
you said that took away question
But am faced with inaction
that leaves me uncertain

If I believe that there is never
black and white but shades of grey
Then why do I keep trying to turn up the contrast
Trying to get a clear picture of just what lies before me