I fount those pictures you took of me
Early last summer
Hidden under my bed sheet –
I wonder, will anyone see such beauty in me again?
And I hate myself for wasting your love
Time and time again.
I hope you’re well,
And I wish I could apologize
For putting you through Hell,
But we both know I’m no good
At saying how I feel
Everyone is sick of desperately
Trying to sort me out –
And no one can seem to read me
Quite as well as you.
It’s clear you’ll be better off without me,
But I cant say I’ll ever be okay without you.