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because i write things like my heart is breaking,
the one who means the most is secretly hurting himself,
falling slowly into an abyss.
i cannot save him for he does not want to be saved.
i cannot save myself for i am already lost.
he only wants me when he's lonely and depressed
and i go when he calls secretly hoping it will change
knowing it won't
hating myself for lettin myself get sucked in
i've been here before
i know how this ends
but i convince myself that this is different
yet the only thing that has changed are the players
the script and story are the same
i know this,
but i lie to myself to make myself feel better.
put on the happy mask so no one knows.
i wear it so often it's become a second skin
even i can't tell the difference any more.
the lines between fiction and reality have blurred
i don't know what's real and what's imagined
i'm slipping into a habit
am i really fated to only have one-sided relationships?
is there no one out there for me who will give as much as i do?
the one who means the most is secretly hurting himself,
falling slowly into an abyss.
i cannot save him for he does not want to be saved.
i cannot save myself for i am already lost.
he only wants me when he's lonely and depressed
and i go when he calls secretly hoping it will change
knowing it won't
hating myself for lettin myself get sucked in
i've been here before
i know how this ends
but i convince myself that this is different
yet the only thing that has changed are the players
the script and story are the same
i know this,
but i lie to myself to make myself feel better.
put on the happy mask so no one knows.
i wear it so often it's become a second skin
even i can't tell the difference any more.
the lines between fiction and reality have blurred
i don't know what's real and what's imagined
i'm slipping into a habit
am i really fated to only have one-sided relationships?
is there no one out there for me who will give as much as i do?