Why is it I can’t be honest to the one that loves me the most?
I can be honest with you…I actually feel relieved just talking to you.
and you know what? I don’t think anyone has ever loved me the way she does, she truly loves me for the piece of shit I am.
She would probably give her life for me, the fucked up thing is, she probably IS giving up her life, just by being with me.
See I’m telling you this because, if I hold this shit in I’ll go crazy
I like her…but that’s it
She places her heart in my hands every morning, and I must’ve already dropped it a hundred times,
And like a dog she keeps handing it over, just happy to see me, I leave for days at a time, I show up and there she is…
I don’t know where her anger goes, she shows it sometimes, but hides it to keep me from leaving again.
And my heart, she would probably place in her chest for safe keeping, but I gave her an empty container
hope she has, she has fabricated, if I tell her I love her, it’s
because she says it ten times a day, and I give her one, and that means I
love her too
She wants a romantic dinner, she asks for it, I give it to her, and it means I’m romantic.
She holds my hand, so it means I held her hand. Every damn thing works this way.
This fantasy of hope and love she is creating.
Now I tell you this, because I can’t even stand looking in the mirror sometimes,
And I think deep down she knows she is the last one on my mind,
That it would only take the woman who hurt me the most to call my name and I’d be gone, but hey that’s just wishful thinking…
For now I unload this on you, hoping to be ready for the morning, when she wakes up smiling just because I spent the night,
ready to hand over her heart, one more time..