Sometimes I don't know if I should cry my eyes out, cut my wrists, or cut my eyes out so I never have to see you again.
Sometimes I just can't hold it in.
The pain I feel is real.
I love you enough to let you hurt me over and over...
Again, I need a friend.
Sometimes you say I am selfish and snappy.
Those are the times when you can't even make me happy.
I don't see why you don't understand when I tell you it hurts.
You just keep on and find a way to make it worse.
I don't even know,
who lied to who first?
You seem to know just fine,
you like seeing my face rubbed in dirt.
How many times will I ask myself why?
I know I'm disarranged and you're no better.
Sometimes I can't see
how we are ever happy together.
It's deeper than you.
And me.
There is no looking up.
We are covered distilled in concrete and glass,
we have to pick at each other just to see.
Maybe one day we'll recognize each others pain.
And stop ripping and tearing, layers from our skin.