Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


I'm tired of hanging onto that small glimmer of hope,
Because it's usually a time bomb,
And it usually blows up in my face.
The only one who's sad and mourns,
Is the only one who thought there was chance.

Make plans
Break plans.
Everything in this way
Is consistent.

Everything else is out of order.

Spending time with me, is it a sin?
Do you fear my words, my opinion?
Do you fear the depression that I suffer?
Do you feel that it's contagious?
Do you hate me for unknown reasons?
Why won't you sit with me awhile?

I have no one, will never have anyone, will always be lonely.
And all you do is think of yourself.

S o tired of the make-em-break-em plans that you compose
E ach week. I'm the only one
L eft disappointed while you run out and
F ind amusement in another person.
I hate that you do this. I hate that you continue to do
S o, week after week. And I don't think change can
H appen to someone like you. So careless yet full of care.

To bad the care isn't for me.
But isn't that the case with every person I know?
The care isn't for me?

I look in the mirror
And say
“Who the hell would love you?”
I wait for the reflection to answer me,
But no one ever answers me.
No one answers.

There is only me,
I'm sorry that wasn't good enough for you.

October 25, 2004

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