Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.
Not just with you,
But with everything.
My friends aren't real,
They say things behind my back,
They find ways to hurt me.
And honestly,
I think the only reason most of them talk to me,
Is because they need me to do things for them.
You tend to make me feel left out,
I don't suppose you intend to,
But by not responding,
When I give you hours between trying to talk to you,
So you don't feel pressured,
You hurt me.
When it doesn't seem as if you care whether I stay or go...
Tell me...
What do I mean to you?
I know it's early,
But still...
It would hurt if we were just friends,
I've tried to be good,
What am I doing wrong?
Tell me,
Why do you treat me this way?
View User's Journal
I Wish The Real World Would Just Stop Hassling Me
I seem to have two kinds of thoughts:
Poetry and rants
If you don't want to wade through one or the other, don't read. Honestly, you're better off that way.
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Unusual Inescapable Me
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