2003-11-02 07:35:06 (UTC)

i write constantly to avoid the dull pain of gradual loss

dont ask me because i dont know why i do what i fucking do
i dont know why i cant help from loving the one person i
should be running from i dont know why i consistantly
contradict myself and i dont know why i cant love you baby
i know youre good i know youre fucking amazing, perfect at
least, and maybe perfect just is not for me. maybe i need
the disappointing disillusionment. maybe i need for you to
make me cry...just so i can have the satisfaction of
helping you make it better. maybe i will never be fucking
content. and maybe i will wake up one day and realize that
ive spent the last decade of my life and myself trying to
confirm hopes that were never even mine to begin
with....and maybe then ill say im sorry, im sorry....