Up Against the Fault

No call this morning, no sleep at all.
Not getting any answers searching through telephones.
Oh absence, take form.
Half cold in a king size dawn.
Breaking still despite the holding on.
Someone tell me, What am I doing wrong?
Clothes I can throw away, hair I can cut, strip or stain.
Moods I promise to turn like corners
And get out of my own way but on what chance can this stand?
With that, half a heart in some desperate plan
I dont know who it is I'm up against.
Someone tell me, What am I doing wrong?
Youre keeping me close and against and I think to a fault.
I'll have to do something each blazing morning, burns a little slow.
Is there something needs telling?
Some good that I'm not doing?
Provide some helpful point upon which I could fall
Or dont suggest anything.
Its probably nothing,
Its nothing if no one can see that theres anything wrong.