I hate scrubbing the smell of "love" and cigarettes out of my ******* hair
from depicting happiness from myself when it clearly wasn't there
I hate waking up to cuts and bruises from the night before
from someone who claimed to give a **** but doesn't anymore
I hate trying to paint the perfect picture on my face
to hide the thoughts and memories that only pain could trace

I'm so sick of starring at screens waiting for a change
its like the only thing my life has come to in this state of derange
I'm so sick of watching people laugh
when theres nothing quite so happy in my life that could ever compare to that
I'm so sick of writing letters with no return address
No matter how much I confess, everything is still a mess

You can pick up everyones pieces and put it back together
but no matter what, weather is weather
It could be snowing or raining or just ******* beautiful
but its what you chose to make of yourself that is forever suitable
relying on others is just a waste of time
and you're right, there is no way I could ever reach the value of a dime
because I'm a million dollars, so its your loss that you won't even care to bother