how can i pretend any longer?
how many more times do i have to grit my teeth
and pretend that everything's alright?
how many more nights do i have
until i have to finally say goodbye?
don't get me wrong, no;
this isn't about you.
this isn't about the world around me,
this isn't about what i don't have,
this isn't about love.
or is it?
another day, another blow.
another shot, another dodge.
another strike, another tear.
what does it matter anymore, that you're finally here?
I'm not as strong as you thought i was,
I'm sorry.
I'm not as tough as people claim i am,
i know.
but give me another chance to try and get better,
after all, i can just hit restart after i fail again, one time after another.
maybe i blocked you out because,
i knew sooner or later,
you were gonna pull the trigger
of the gun you were already holding
to the side of my head.
and maybe I'd let you do it,
even though it could be prevented,
even though i knew how much it would destroy me,
how much it may destroy you too soon after,
because maybe i loved you too much to care
and maybe,
i trusted you too much to mind.