i'm not sure what we're doing anymore.
i alienated myself (hey, that'd explain a lot. i'm an alien.) from you for a reason,
then took you back. i know i still love you, maybe even a lot, still. you're back.
you're hurting me again, and i don't 'like' it as much this time. this time,
i'm getting tired of it. i don't know how much more i can put up with.

you see, you're trying to feed me an image of who i am. who you would get along with.
according to you, i'm lame. i have no self control, and i want you to fuck me. and i love you, more or less
and i don't mind that you hurt me so much. i shouldn't notice the shit you do hurts, because it's you.
it's just what you do. it's who you are. and while you're a lame person too, you're better than me.
i'm just a quarterwhore, and i'm supposed to be fine with never getting a glance out of your pocket (boxers would work better).
i've gotta be there for you, but i'm completely fine when you ignore me while i'm crying without tears.
(because seriously, we both know i've cried so much the tears won't come anymore.)