You can't tell me that,
because before,
when everything was perfect,
I believed that,
It hurts more to wash blood down the drain then to feel it come out of me,
when I cry,
I don't stop until I can feel something again,
and when I told you I loved you,
I meant it.
If it's just a bad day,
not just a bad life,
then how come every day is bad?
How come I pushed people so far away that they're never coming back?
How come it is so hard to breath that I break down crying in my brother's car and have to miss first period cause I can't stop?
The good days are spread so thin that I don't have much to compare the bad ones to,
If I knew who was hurting me,
I would hurt them back,
but I have to take it out on someone for now,
and I'm the only one crying on the bathroom floor,
When I have bad days I don't think about the good ones,
I think about how many more days I have to keep taking deep breaths before the deep breaths take me,
I wonder where they would take me,
and why I'm not there yet,
When I do have a good day,
I think about it ending,
if I could just stay "good" for a few more minutes,
maybe I would really know what it felt like.
But the only thing I can think is
"It's a good day, not a good life"