Reigned to a familiar space and shade, I find myself confronting the same stupid questions I always have. Why do I bother? Why don't you? What am I waiting for?
That last one, as always, strikes true in particular.
What am I waiting for?
An unexpected miracle, for you to change suddenly and start giving a shit?
Some kind of conveniant, all-encompassing answer to our troubles wrapped in a shiny bow?
Whatever the answer, it seems that I'm always waiting for something.
It scares the hell out of me to realize that half of the time,
The person I wake up with is not the one I fall asleep with.
Wearing the inside out indeed.
And through this all, I'm wishing for enough to drown everything, if only for five minutes.
Underneath it all, I'm falling to pieces, rattling myself down to nothing more than bones and ashes and cheap littles lies.
I wonder to myself if you know the thoughts in my head,
Wonder if you realize the things I think of you at times like this...
How many times have I planned to keep you,
Planned to save you from yourself?
If I could just let go,
Maybe you'd hold me again.
If I could stop screaming,
Maybe you'd actually hear me for once.
If I could stop being me,
Maybe we'd still love eachother.
Things like this shouldn't be conditional,
Shouldn't depend upon how much money you've got,
Or how much I've drank,
Or how many knives you've wrestled out of my hands.
They should come naturally,
And the worst part is at one point I think they did.
At one point, you felt as fiercely for me as I do for you,
Right down to the bloody, tear-soaked details.
Now, we've edged into something infinitely more terrifying than violence;
That dead calm,
That sodden complaceny,
That miserable fucking silence that nothing seems to drown out.
So, who will it be tomorrow?
Who will I crawl away from under the blankets?
Will you be the person I loved,
Or the asshole I've grown to hate?
Never forget though,
That these scars are forever.
We've caught eachother so deeply, love
That we'll never truly be free of eachother.
To rid yourself of me,
You'd have to rid me of yourself,
And you're far too selfish to do such a thing.