Kill The Man Who Questions No Excuse
Every love song and "I love you," every "We can work this
out." Any chance at ever trusting, for now, is torn to
shreds. Whispered threats and then an apology--broke like
a promise (broke like a rib). Any I know I sound
paranoid, I know it's my problem, I know it's my fault.
And this is just something that I've imagined and it's
wrong of me to make all this up. For that I want you to
feel like I had to feel--like I had to watch my f..cking
back. And my reputation, my face and my sex and my heart.
Every insult and every put down, every "Just wait 'til we
get home." Every arm twist you hide under the table while
you smile and joke with my friends. I can't understand
what makes you do this. And I know I should try to see
past my anger, because you need help. But so far, I
haven't been able to find room in my heart to accept what
you've done--only what you deserve.
