Skip the Sad Days

I was just tired from all of the disappointment
That I fell asleep at the table made of my words
Maybe this will come back to you
Or maybe I can be honest

The tale of the 40 days of sacrifice
Where one loved and never felt it back
The questions we ask when we never receive
And oh, the doubt is fresh in the air

Can you feel it, the stings on our knees
From all of this lying that we call the truth
Redemption seems to not be the answer
But it is haunting, uncanny in it's motion

And it comes back to haunt my forever
To make known that I'm never alone
Though the week has passed as half of happiness
I've risen again, and I'm finding the gifts called below