Now,

I don't mean to be offensive,
but every
time I come to you,

with great news, 
about something I've done,
something I'm proud of,

you're so apprehensive,
like what I've done can't possibly be greater,
than what you've accomplished in life,

I come to you excited,
and I leave you,
a crater,
of a person once happy,
once passionate,
once excited,
for life,

you were once the reason,
I went home,
sat down,
and brought out my knife,

to bring the blade to my body,
to carve out my soul,

I’m just a corpse now,
and I'm starting to mold,

my mind has deteriorated,
I can’t think straight,

I'm afraid to speak around you,
I'll just stick to my plate,

because if I,
say the wrong thing,
if I appear to be fine,

you'll take your words,
like a fork,

and on my happiness
you'll dine.