I'm about to explode on someone close to me. I'm about to be as good to you as you were to me. I'm so close to an disastrous end. My sword is a pen and I'm about to slay a dragon and fend off my demons and knowing me I'll fight 'till the end because I can't stand to give up or give in no matter if this is a fighting I will be winning. Get it? I won't stay another night inside my head because I'm so sick of feeling like my body is made of lead. I just sink deeper into this depressive state like a rock to water. No matter what I feel like I know that someone has it harder. Like some father who's worried a boy'll knock-up his daughter. I'm sorry that you can't handle what your friends think of me, so you'd rather be a martyr to a cause that isn't even worth the cost you'll pay. I know the games you'll play. Watch. She'll ignore you and you'll act sad so she'll feel bad and look at that, you got her attention back. You'll memorize all the little bad things they do. Even if it's an accident and no one cares, except for you. I'll watch from the sideline as you continue to hurt them. You'll eventually run out of pawns for your sick game of *******. We all know this nice act of yours is just a diversion. I don't know how they keep falling for your story. It's like Marley and me; the **** version. So when you're done and finally end up alone, I won't be lonely. I'll sit at home with my wife, Trinity, Jacob and Jamie.