10:00 PM, Yourself, Or Someone Like You.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
I never said thank you for anything that you had done for me because I took you for granted.
I took your presence for granted.
I thought with every day that passed, I'd get one more chance.
I thought you’d stay alive forever, that you’d never leave.
I thought I'd get to stick my head against your chest, & always hear your heartbeat.
I thought…
Well I thought you were part of me.
But now that I’ve taken the time to stand back and admire what I’ve made out of this,
I know I’ve used up all my chances.
There’s no use regretting the words I never told you.
The many “thank you-s” I missed out on.
Not to mention, the hundreds of “I love you-s” I could have told you had I appreciated you more.
I’ve used up all my chances.
Now I’ll never get any more.
There’s nothing left to do, or to prove.
Chances- are no more.
What would you think of me now?
Oh why should I even care?
If I could, I'd put myself right beside you.
I'd develop a new skin that’s thicker, and I’d wear it on me.
I'd force myself to bite my tongue if I hear things that would bruise me.
If I could, I’d find my place right beside you.
As I lie sore and sick, disgusted with the world and how cold it has become,
I took your presence for granted.
I thought with every day that passed, I'd get one more chance.
I thought you’d stay alive forever, that you’d never leave.
I thought I'd get to stick my head against your chest, & always hear your heartbeat.
I thought…
Well I thought you were part of me.
But now that I’ve taken the time to stand back and admire what I’ve made out of this,
I know I’ve used up all my chances.
There’s no use regretting the words I never told you.
The many “thank you-s” I missed out on.
Not to mention, the hundreds of “I love you-s” I could have told you had I appreciated you more.
I’ve used up all my chances.
Now I’ll never get any more.
There’s nothing left to do, or to prove.
Chances- are no more.
What would you think of me now?
Oh why should I even care?
If I could, I'd put myself right beside you.
I'd develop a new skin that’s thicker, and I’d wear it on me.
I'd force myself to bite my tongue if I hear things that would bruise me.
If I could, I’d find my place right beside you.
As I lie sore and sick, disgusted with the world and how cold it has become,
I wonder.
What have I become?
What have I become?
Never mind what other people have become.
What have I become?
I know it’s been hundreds of days now.
And pardon me if I bore you.
But you can’t tell me you don’t agree.
Sometimes things cling on to you like second skin.
And getting rid of those things, would be like trying to take a wet t-shirt off.
Hard. So fucking hard.
Hard. So fucking hard.
As much as I know that it is hard but not entirely impossible,
the thought of completely getting rid of everything about you?
Trust me, I hate it.
Trust me, I hate it.
Yourself.
Or someone like you.
And I know I love to rant in my writings.
But that's the only way i can express myself.
Through words, but not through speech.
I talk to myself alot though. Hah, ok that's uncalled for.
