I wish that I could trust you,
sometimes I almost do.

I crave our old companionship.
Why did you have to ruin it?

I guess I didn't mean that much,
I deceived myself completely.

I thought you cared as much as I did.
I know that was my mistake.

Your only fault is constant disappointment.
Maybe I just expect too much.

Is it too much to ask for loyalty?
Was it too hard to be trustworthy?

You deny the whispers spoken behind my back,
but don't you know I can feel the slimy betrayal?

The knife in my back still hasn't left,
not with you constantly pushing it back in.

I wish I could trust you,
but now I know better than that.