I would rather die than cry.
You tore my heart out but I’m still here,
you don’ look at me the same, with love and passion,
instead, I see fear and hatred.
What did I do to make you hate me?
I gave you my world, my love, but it wasn't enough, was it?
I stand here asking you why, looking in your eyes,
but your not looking back.
Do I give up and walk away or fight?
You once told me you’d do anything for me,
is that still true?
I would rather feel a thousand knives then beg.
I needed you, you were my everything.
And now, I’m just a shell of my former self,
hollow and bare.
But you wouldn’t know would you?
I’d rather you shoot me then tell you how I feel.