As rivers of mascara run down my face I think
What did I ever do to deserve this?
Tear stains on my once rosy cheeks
serve as a reminder that nothing good can stay.
No, I don't want your sympathy.
I don't want your ******* pity.
You can take your knowing smile
and shove it straight up you ***.
I am enough on my own.
I can make it without your help.
The fact of the matter is,
I don't need you.
You only wish I do.