If you wanted my life so badly

you could have just asked

I'd have given you it

writer's angst et al

you didn't have to

poision their minds against me

make them think

I was going crazy

under some delusion

(poor Kate, she dosen't even realise

it's only in her head)

You didn't need to do that

didn't have to

well you know

god, would I have given a damn?

Want to know a secret about my perfect life?

I hate it

I hate every fucking second

that I have to go on

knowing that all of this

is my fault deep down

but here's the thing:

I might hate my life

and hate everyone in it

but I love it, and them, just as much

and damned if I'm letting some wannabe

take it over

so I'm sorry, if you thought

you'd won some secret game

with rules I don't understand

but me? I refuse to play

when I know I've already won