I love what you do to me,
Sickeningly sweetening,
Viciously inviting,
Altogether frightening.

If I could just meet you, for one second,
Make direct contact, know that you exist.
If I could just be you and feel that wonderful feeling, both relieving and thrilling.
If you could show yourself to me, I would learn to be happy.
But, there's this painful reality
Where you can only be
An ever evasive shadow.
Selfishly you side-step the light, unaffected when you leave me empty and shallow.

Planting subtle seeds of uncertainty,
Like a well-orchestrated symphony
At the right time, right tempo,
The manipulation is all mental.

You remind me of him,
Living life on a whim.
Chance of facing consequences is slim.
Deceptive and dangerous, charisma's contagious.
The way you insist on having control is outrageous.
I guess I'm just getting to know you in stages
And I don't like the person underneath all those faces.

Fake, fake, fake.
Whatever could it take
To break your false exterior,
To believe you're not superior?

Pain, pain, pain.
What is it that you gain
By inflicting it on others
With absolutely no shame?

Pushing people away
Has always been my great forte.
To their utter confusion,
I do not pursue them
When they walk the other way.

I thought I really didn't matter to you; I thought you didn't care.
A chance to prove me wrong is what I simply couldn't spare.
So wrapped up in my delusions and depression, blind to any kind of progression.
I didn't see you grow, I wouldn't let you show.
You could have been there, if I had dared
To reach out for help, to admit that I was scared.