You tell me that
You've been hurting yourself again.
Well.
I'm glad you told me
But I've never been this angry at you before.
I loved your anger
When your friend told you she cut herself.
You're such a hypocrite
And then you say
I'm sorry
But you're not
You're so obviously not
Because you've told me
That sorry is not only an apology
But a promise that the thing apologized for
Will not happen again.
I wish you were sorry
I love you
And I think you can get past this
But I thought you already were
You've told me that you were.
And now you say it's my fault that your pain
Hurts me?
Your life is not your own
I've told you that before
And you seemed to agree
But now I wonder if you cared at all about
Our deeper conversations.
I don't choose to love you.
I will love you no matter what
Even though you seem to be turning your back on my pain
Pain that you brought about
That you have no need to bring.
I have told you that I am always here for you
But you don't listen
I swear I will be your shoulder to cry on
Whenever you need.
But what it seems like you're saying now
Is that I'm less helpful than pain.
Less comforting than hurting yourself.
I can't believe you would resort to that
Without calling me once.