**** it.
           **** myself.
Why do I miss you?
       Why do I do this to myself?
It's like I'm addicted to the pain it brings.
       To my heart, my mind.
                 When it makes my body ache.
I don't want you back.
   At least not like that.
          But it'd be nice to talk to you.
I'm beyond confused
        trying to figure out living without you
And when I shed a tear
   it's because things have become less clear
And to know you won't ever be near
         Really tears me apart, my dear.