If my mistakes are your mistakes ...
Being dragged through it, heavied with errors and missteps, is weighing me down. Actually, its been weighing me down since I was 17 and I think I'm finally cracking after 4 years. Sucked of magic - maybe this is life? I can wish there was a handbook, but even then, I'd be without answers.
I tried to envision something grand and beautiful. I held off on excitement, held off on pedestal placing. Years of this must have trained me to know better. The inevitable is just that, and here we are again.
Worn.
They should take me in because I'm family. They should take me in because I have nowhere else to go. They should take me in because, at the very least, they owe me.
My family functions like a business transaction placed without the incentive.
Red tape, red tape, red tape ...
This is how I ended up this way, bitter and tired, acerbic and withdrawn, chock full of defense mechanisms and deflective tricks. Private but lonely. I used to be very idealistic, easily inspired, "Man is basically good."
But, to be clear, this is not the painful part. That was when I was hoping that their response would be different. Hope is painful, not the disappointment. Caring is torture.
Knife in the gut, k ni fein t h eg u t
Left with no buffer (another childhood mistake you made, can't replace, just like unconditional love), with nothing to offer, nothing of value. Just me and this dog, dreams that should have died long ago, fragments of sentiment I'm trying to shrug off.
I tried to envision something grand and beautiful. I held off on excitement, held off on pedestal placing. Years of this must have trained me to know better. The inevitable is just that, and here we are again.
Worn.
They should take me in because I'm family. They should take me in because I have nowhere else to go. They should take me in because, at the very least, they owe me.
My family functions like a business transaction placed without the incentive.
Red tape, red tape, red tape ...
This is how I ended up this way, bitter and tired, acerbic and withdrawn, chock full of defense mechanisms and deflective tricks. Private but lonely. I used to be very idealistic, easily inspired, "Man is basically good."
But, to be clear, this is not the painful part. That was when I was hoping that their response would be different. Hope is painful, not the disappointment. Caring is torture.
Knife in the gut, k ni fein t h eg u t
Left with no buffer (another childhood mistake you made, can't replace, just like unconditional love), with nothing to offer, nothing of value. Just me and this dog, dreams that should have died long ago, fragments of sentiment I'm trying to shrug off.