You think I’m overreacting
And I guess that might be true
But who gets to decide that?
I’m sure it isn’t you

I panic while in grocery lines
And worry about ordering food
You tell me that it’s stupid
I tell you that you’re rude

You don’t get to tell me
That my worry is misplaced
You think that I don’t know that?
Get the hell out of my face

You think I want to be this way?
You think it’s all a game?
The fact that you can’t understand
Is such a ******* shame

I’m sorry you can’t sympathize
Or maybe you don’t try
You think you have all the answers
But you don’t, okay? Goodbye.

You can look at a broken bone
And understand completely
But because my wound is in my head
You consistently mistreat me

It’s because of people just like you

That I feel like I have to hide
I pretend that I’m perfect
And lock my fears inside

The truth is that I’m tired
The truth is it’s a pain
I wish I could show my true self
Without being called insane

And we drank cheap champagne out of paper cups
While we reminisced about things
That we had complained about while they were happening
And I looked at you from the corner of my eye
And wished you wouldn't go
But I know you are needed elsewhere

Your happiness means the world to me
Even if that means you have to leave

I want to scream at you to let me go
I'm not worth being held on to
But even as the words drop from my lips
My hand can't seem to drop yours from my grasp

I want to tell you to run
And never spare another glance my way
But even as I urge you to turn away from me
I can't seem to tear my eyes from your face

I want to warn you that I'm no good
And that I'll end up ruining everything
But even as I ask you to cleanse yourself of me
I can't bare the thought of washing the smell of you from my sheets

I want, no, -need- you to forget about me
And never send a word my way again
I know you are better off without me in your life
And at least I'll have my memories of you to keep me warm

People tend to get the wrong idea about me
Thinking I'm competent, functioning, well adjusted
And I think that's because
My particular brand of self destruction
Is more or less invisible
Unless someone really cares enough to look
And they rarely do

I keep writing these words
And, like yelling into a pillow
It's somewhat cathartic
But I can't help but be dissatisfied
At the lack of practical application
No one can hear my cries
Or maybe no one is listening
Regardless
This changes nothing

Sleepless nights and long drives
Are not enough time
To make me choose
Between the two of you
If I had to pick today
I'd probably just run away
I have nothing to offer either of you