right now it''s 11:56 p.m. on a Friday night|
and I am alone,
in my own drunken puke.
I promised no more drinking
but you promised you would never leave me.
we had those fictitious fantasies,
"we''ll grow old together and be in love forever"
you''d always announce to me
but I knew I wasn''t your only sweetheart.
you may have loved me,
but oh my god,
you loved her more,
and now i am alone with broken
fantasies cutting my skin open and
allowing all the sadness to pour out.
you met me as a broken butterfly
but you nurtured me to health,
only to snap me right in half again.
why''d you do it?
and the saddest part is I would run to you again if you asked knowing it''d be