(no subject)

[foreverbotched]

i dont know
what it is
i've done wrong.
i dont know
why it is
you act this way.

or how it happens
that i end up
feeling this way.
after the things you say,
on any given day,
none of it amounts to anything.

im finding pleasure in denying you.
in the just the same ways that you say no to me.
things are really just as simple as they seem.
trees of love and
trees of hatred
are trees grown from the same seed,
and both burn just the same.

i dont know
what it is
i've done wrong.
i dont know
why it is
you act this way.

when i think about you,
the next thing i usually think
is,
"god damn i need a drink."
the thought of you
leaves a bad taste in my mouth,
and my knuckles white.

why does such a good thing have to end up so wrong.
why is such a delicious apple pie sprinkled with glass shards?

am i an indulgent excuse,
a weekend of naughtiness to make up for all the years of nice?
the large beer at the end of a hard days work?
does it make something that much better if it is only a rarity?
sorta like a flavor of the week, or maybe even the month, year?

i dont know
what it is
i've done wrong.
i dont know
why it is
you act this way.

or how it happens
that i end up
feeling this way.
after the things you say,
on any given day,
none of it amounts to anything.