You're punching clocks and he's punching walls because he doesn't understand what you're trying to say. Are you crazy? Boys don't speak metaphor, baby.
He's playing ****** knuckles and you're speaking 10 different languages trying to explain how much you love him without saying it pointblank.
I'm scraping my knees begging you to understand and the only thing you can muster is, "are you okay?" You're putting band-aids on wounds I was never planning on trying to heal. I'm pouring my heart out and you're too busy getting towels to clean up the spill to even notice what I'm saying.
My words hit your ears like fists against cement and I can't keep giving you everything just to watch you break it all in front of me.
I want you to know how it feels to be the shattered glass instead of the hand that drops it.
I want you know how it feels to be a rooftop instead of the nails that bolt it down.
And more than anything I want you to know how it feels to be someone I could never love.