When will this end?
When will you relax?
You act like it's a sin,
To be imperfect.

All you do is correct,
Others than yourself.
You do realize I know,
You're being sneaky as hell.

I've caught you more than once,
But kept to my silence.
I don't trust you now.
You broke it in reference.

Trust issues form,
when one controls.
Maybe you should relax.
Or hit the road.