To think I spend so many hours wondering if you're alright
How many hours I've put into making sure you know
That you are loved, you are cared for, you are good, you are valuable
And after all of the **** I have seen and been through,
You think it's annoying I complain?
Even though I rarely do.
Even though I hold everything in until it hurts my insides
You think it's annoying I complain?
Why else didn't you answer my question?
No wonder I stopped telling you what's wrong with me.
I guess I sensed your dissatisfaction with my venting.
And now
*Now I have no one