you keep telling me that you are just tired or that you don't feel good or that your back hurts. but there is something that you are not telling me. something is not right.

it is a feeling of impending doom. something is not right, but i don't know what it is. and i am waiting tensely to find out what it is.

you have retreated again behind that closed door in your head and you have shut me out. we have already fallen back into our old habits of not talking to each other. and why do you think that if i ask you a question, you have the right to just sit there in silence and pretend i'm not even speaking?