eleventh

Truth is,
I'm scared.
I'm afraid I can't commit.
I'm losing control.
Truth is,
I know she cares.
But she hates this house. This house I'm a part of.
She prefers where she's slogging her guts out. For nothing.
And then I'm staring at my life story in the text I'm supposed to be studying for.
There's nobody to blame. Blaming isn't logical. It's not rational.
Shit happens. It's nobody's fault.
That makes me so resentful... if there's nobody to blame, what the FUCK am I supposed to do?
Truth is,
I know he cares.
But every time he walks away because he can't deal with me,
every time he walks away because I can't deal with me,
it kills me a little bit inside. Every time.
Truth is,
nobody can save me.
I'm on my own.
I'm crying for help but I'm pushing everyone away.
Truth is,
I'm a coward.


What more do you want from me?