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a small amount of potential i bleed for you
carve it into my forehead
because there's nothing better than lies
someone turns on a switch every time we meet
and turns off reality
that's why you have an excuse
to be fake
fake
fake
with your fake words and
fake apologies and
cruel intentions
it's not so simple
(but it really is)
with your fake words and
fake apologies and
cruel intentions
it's not so simple
(but it really is)
I made myself sad today. I called a manager to the cash office, banged my head against the door to the cash office, and tried real hard not to cry. So I stood there with my eyes closed, leaning on the door to the cash office, and I got "Drunk Girl" by Something Corporate stuck in my head. And the only line I sang outloud was
"why do I do these things I do to myself?"
And this is a beautiful poem. It really is. You are wonderful. And don't worry about people.