The more bandaids I put on your skin, the more wounds I stitch together, the more blood comes out of you and I'm afraid my efforts won't ever be enough. You are the security in my life and if you decide to leave me I'm not sure I can hold myself together. My stiches are for your wounds only, not mine, cause if you leave, how can I be worth saving?
How can you say I'm destructive when I've been clean for so long? I've tried so hard and you throw that in my face? Did I mean nothing? Did my efforts mean nothing? I know I've been crazy but I tried long and hard to prove myself worthy. I've fought wars trying to prove myself, and it means nothing?
I refuse to believe you're that cold.
We all need that special something
Friday, May 9, 2008 by Emma
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment