You hurt me, you always hurt me.
Make me feel bad for being me. I'm only decent to have around when you want to bitch about something, right? Its the same with everyone.
And once you've vented your trivial feelings, then I'm but a piece of rubbish to be ignored. Do you know how much that hurts? Do you know how it feels just to be used then thrown away?
And yet I keep on soothing your troubled little minds, keep on smoothing over your rumpled egos. But what do I get in return? Nada. Do you know how worthless that makes me feel?
Why do I keep on doing this? Being available to your whims? I don't fucking know. Perhaps I just hope. What a horrible thing hope can be.
I keep hoping that one day you might appreciate the things that I do for you. But I know thats likely to never happen.
I know that this post is going to be hidden away from your prying eyes. ALL of your prying eyes. But I need to vent this now, else I'll just explode. One day I might anyway. But who would care. My feelings are just a triviality. Aren't they?
Aren't they?
AREN'T THEY?
You'd probably only notice me missing once you had a problem and I wasn't around.
I am poisoned. POISONED.
Poisoned by feelings of betrayal, by hurt and sadness and hope and desperation. When will someone care? When I stop?
By the time someone might ever take the time to care I might be just a shadow; more dispassionate, more cynical, more sarcastic, sadder, madder, more desperate.
But I wonder if by that time whether I will want somebody? Will I still crave touch and affection?
Will I be repelled? Will I?
Its already a struggle to touch some people without feeling ill.
Will you be one of those people? Will you even care by then?
Maybe we'll switch roles. You care; I'll hate. Am I already on a road to self-destruction?
Why won't you see that I love it when you confide in me?
But I hate it afterwards when you ignore me and throw me away.
But I love you all the same. Why else do you think I listen?
I live you, I love you, I love you.
And words do not describe the tears that I shed for you, and for myself.
I know that people like me are hard to come by. Will you ever see it too?
Make me feel bad for being me. I'm only decent to have around when you want to bitch about something, right? Its the same with everyone.
And once you've vented your trivial feelings, then I'm but a piece of rubbish to be ignored. Do you know how much that hurts? Do you know how it feels just to be used then thrown away?
And yet I keep on soothing your troubled little minds, keep on smoothing over your rumpled egos. But what do I get in return? Nada. Do you know how worthless that makes me feel?
Why do I keep on doing this? Being available to your whims? I don't fucking know. Perhaps I just hope. What a horrible thing hope can be.
I keep hoping that one day you might appreciate the things that I do for you. But I know thats likely to never happen.
I know that this post is going to be hidden away from your prying eyes. ALL of your prying eyes. But I need to vent this now, else I'll just explode. One day I might anyway. But who would care. My feelings are just a triviality. Aren't they?
Aren't they?
AREN'T THEY?
You'd probably only notice me missing once you had a problem and I wasn't around.
I am poisoned. POISONED.
Poisoned by feelings of betrayal, by hurt and sadness and hope and desperation. When will someone care? When I stop?
By the time someone might ever take the time to care I might be just a shadow; more dispassionate, more cynical, more sarcastic, sadder, madder, more desperate.
But I wonder if by that time whether I will want somebody? Will I still crave touch and affection?
Will I be repelled? Will I?
Its already a struggle to touch some people without feeling ill.
Will you be one of those people? Will you even care by then?
Maybe we'll switch roles. You care; I'll hate. Am I already on a road to self-destruction?
Why won't you see that I love it when you confide in me?
But I hate it afterwards when you ignore me and throw me away.
But I love you all the same. Why else do you think I listen?
I live you, I love you, I love you.
And words do not describe the tears that I shed for you, and for myself.
I know that people like me are hard to come by. Will you ever see it too?