I’ve grown weary and tired,
exhausted from this constant, perpetual game.
Back and forth we argue,
between what we want and what is morally right.
There is nothing that I want but to speak to you once more,
to hear happiness color your tone.
And yes, I could have fooled you, right?
I understand that you’re suffering,
but don’t turn it into more than it is.
In more ways than you realize,
you’re exactly like him,
using guilt and pain to earn my sympathy.
It isn’t going to work,
not even a chance,
so baby, don’t even.

This pain I feel is different,
not at all what I am used to.
My reasons cause me to suffer no less,
but I must make it clear;
I hurt because your anguish,
fresh and relentless,
pierces me with sorrow each moment you’re on my mind.
Still, I fear the end is closer that perceived,
just hiding in the dark,
waiting for a moments’ weakness.
I won’t give in,
I’m tired of avoiding you.
I know my desires,
and I’m willing to sacrifice to regain what I’ve lost.