I wonder if he knows how often I wish I were dead.
I wonder if he knows that I know what he does, or if he even know that he is doing it.
When he withholds love. When he jdges. When he procrastinates. When he lies. When he breaks my heart.
We all run around waiting for him to give love, or take love.
And yet I apologize, and try, and break.
Most days, lately all the days, I can't feel. But to heyday I feel hurt. And the only thing thing that keeps me on this earth is the boy.