I can't imagine your world but I try my damnedest to get some form of the truth. The least you can do is the same for me.
I sit here thinking of you and for what?
Love was never apart of the occasion.
You want me when you want me and then that's all.
I'm sorry I'm so quiet.
I'm sorry I don't get along with the world. These "problems" I have are ones I'm aware of.
I can accept me but why can't you get with it.
Am I really that bad, am I?
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