Those poems about she I've been writing all this time, Are they really about she ? Or were they actually about me ? I am confused by myself sometimes, Am I living as me, Or am I living as she, Who am I? And who is she?
I can't love you back simply because you love me, I have to love your personality, your true self, So I can feel less cruel and unfair to you and myself, Miss you when you're away and excited to see you, And feel sad instead of relief when you leave