Depressed
but I still sit here oppressed by you
and your ******* of how I'm suppose to not **** up.
The consent and ideal mentions of how to be strong willed
fade into the background when I find out you've gone and drank yourself silly and got high to numb the pain.

I'm stressed
but who wouldn't be?
It's been three weeks and it shouldn't be,
without you, there's only two;
my brother and I
but where were you?

Like I've said to you before I'm done
and can't keep playing these games anymore.
You hear what I'm saying but it's like you don't understand.
Then again I guess you never really understood how I worked as well,
but in all honesty
I'm sure as hell not like you.

I'm a mess
but who wouldn't be?
I do my best but it couldn't be,
without you there's only two;
my brother and I
but where were you?

Like I've said to you before I don't care
but whenever I say that, it's like I fill up with despair
Look inside-- my head aches from anger and my heart from forgiveness.
I'm overwhelmed by these emotions and either way I get hurt.
It's you or me
always has been, always will be.

Suppressed
I lay here,
and with doubt I play fair
thinking maybe one day you'll come up to me and say





"sorry."

With emotions so strong,
maybe then I'll buy it.