Didn’t give me a chance, but you gave him three.
Only chance you gave, was to hurt me.
I let it happen, once or twice.
Now I’m thinking, are you worth the time?
Are you worth the fight?
No matter what I say. I cant fool myself.
Love is the book, and you’re the shelf.
Dreams are gifts, and you’re Santa’s Elf.
I’m the mistake, you took on yourself.
Sometimes I think I’m the reason you privated your account.
But when I look in the mirror and say I don’t miss you, I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.
You’re the person I cant live without.
That’s why I keep coming back to you.
Hoping for a chance, hoping we’d workout.
You said you were working on yourself.
Getting better, stronger.
Just didn’t know that’d mean loving me would take a bit longer.
I hit you up, in hopes of love.
I was left with nothing but a message from above,
“Leave. You’re not worthy.”
“Leave. You’re not worth it.”
“Leave. You’re hated.”
“Leave. You’re not perfect.”
Depression hit, I was suicidal.
Left myself, became vile
Wasn’t myself for awhile
Friends noticed, took action
Told them to buzz off
Ran out of attraction.
Stopped caring. I lost myself.
Words blaring. Hated myself.
Started running. Couldn’t find myself.
Ran so fast, but I couldn’t find it.
Someone stopped me, looked at me.
I started crying.
They asked “Why? What’re you looking for? I don’t know what you see.”
“I’m looking for the breath that she took from me.”