| Why is it that only the selfish, childish cowards of the world make us re-evaluate our entire self? Why is it that only the truly dastardly ones make us quiver in both pleasure and agony? Why is it that the ones that can't even face themselves make us try to face everything? Why is it that I now think I'm worth nothing? How is it that in my strength I became so weak? What is it that I haven't got? Am I not beautiful enough for you? Am I not witty enough, smart enough, catchy enough? Do my eyes sparkle too infrequently or does my skin feel too rough? Is my stomach not flat enough for you? Has that little place on my neck lost the smell that so easily intoxicated you? Do I cry too easily? What is it that I'm not worth? Am I not worth joking with? Am I not worthing working problems out with? Am I not worth making love to? Am I not worth waiting for? Am I not worth your precious time? Am I not worth your patience? Am I not worth having around for the simple reason of having someone to lean on when nothing's going your way? Is my shoulder not suited for crying on? What did I say that could have led you to possibly believe I'd ever stand for such indignation? You can have it all back. You can dress yourself up in all the jewelry, you can memorize all the letters, you can see your smiling face in worthless photos, you can spend your time clutching onto memories that can never be surpassed, you can have sleepless nights because you know your dreams are only going to upset you. I'm sick of it. If I ever could have know you'd so willingly transform yourself into everything I fear and hate, I would have gladly stomped on your naive little heart while it still had an ounce of decency in it. I never would have let you touch me, or leave me so embarassed for sharing such things with you. Why is it that every single good thought is replaced by two bad ones? And you know what sickens me the most? You don't have to face a damn thing. You can close out everyhing and shut yourself in both physically and mentally. No one is going to bother to challenege you. This isn't going to mean anything. Isn't that convenient? Isn't it easy to forget everything I ever tried to do for you? Isn't it better to block out memories of the stupid little things? Isn't it better not to remember what my laugh sounds like? Isn't it for the best if you don't remember how I tried to show you different worlds? Why is that I still want to share so much with you? I want to take you to the symphony and feel my heart race as the masterpieces of George Gershwin explode from the orchestra. I want to show you how amazing the lightening bugs are as you speed by them on a lonely rural road. I was an idiot for ever listening to you and for ever opening up to you. Why is that I can't walk into the god damned corner grocery store without seeing a product or hearing a song that reminds me of you? Why is it that ever holiday or special event is now awkward for me? Why is it that there are plenty of people around me, but no one listens quite the same? Why is that I can't snap myself out of these silly fantasies and realize that I'm better of without you? |