It was hard enough to tuck you away into
my unfleeting memory, without you being
this angel of forgiveness, as if i deserved it.
Signs flash at me, indications that you are
not the right one: my head hurts more than
your disappointment, so I'll take that extra
Vicodin and flush it down, just like my
compassion for you, down the sink. We
could be so blissfully happy, if I just cared.
When you're gone, I miss the idea of you,
but so solemnly wish to see his face in
that frame. I see his face in my dreams,
and it is haunting. Loose change means
more to me than you. How did i become
this selfish monster? Oh, honey, I learned
from the best. The best heartbreaker this
world has ever seen brainwashes like the
unseen epidemic. If I could open up this
heart of mine, you could warm up the icy
chambers to bring me back to the spunky
sweetie I once was, instead of this cold-
hearted bitch. You see, I could very easily
love you, but his grip on me won't let go,
and I'm afaid of his open hand, and the
possibility of my grenade-heart to explode
before you get a chance to fix me.