(no subject)
You tell me I have problems. I know, I told you I did. But no, you don't mean the problems I'm talking about. You think those are all in my head, fabrications of a lonely girl. You say I need help, and soon. You say you're leaving if I don't change. I say then go, don't let me stop you. You go. I say fuck you, dick! I hate you so much, I wish I never met you. But as I say these words, I know I'm spitting in the wind because I don't hate you and I am greatful each and every day you are by my side. It's too late now, pride won't allow me to take the words back. After thinking about it, I call you. I know I have problems. I'll change. But I know those are just fabrications of a lonely girl.