"And anyway, it doesn't even matter now,"
I try to tell myself. But
Really it DOES matter, it matters quite a lot.
I think about them all the time.
Round and round, over and over again.
Why? How?
Disgusting.
To think that they could carry on
Knowing what they were doing to me.
They could see the pain I was in.
Torn up. Ripped to shreds.
And yet,
Along they went from day to day,
Rubbing my face in it.
Running around while i felt like sh*t.
I never used to be like this, I swear,
I never was.
I hate you.
Now, I can't stand it when she's near,
I think stuff I don't want in my head
Thoughts I shouldn't think.
I don't want to be that person. This person.
Please.
Don't make me. I can't take it.
I can't stand it.
Please.
I love you.
Last edited on Friday February 3rd, 2006 12:45 by Mr$ M!llZ
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