This Is On Me

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Do you think I want to hear that?

Do you think I don't know?

It might be the truth,

But don't you see?

I am surely well aware.

Your kind words, oh how sweet,

They pull and tear at my flesh,

As you taunt and condescend me.

Maybe you don't mean it,

Except I know you do.

I see that look in your eyes,

Reserved only for me.

Stop it. With your cheap nasty lies.

They may be half truths,

But then it is also half false.

I am a pessimist, I see half empty.

Don't you understand?

Your words are sharper than the razor,

That spills my precious blood.

Just the other day,

When you glanced away in disgust?

What ran through your head,

That made it okay?

It tore away my confidence,

And that for sure hurt worse,

Than the sharp pangs of starvation.

What? Please, what do you want?

Don't you think you've done enough?

You tell me, I am to blame.

I am at fault.

I am guilty.

I know it's true.

I don't need your confirmation.

Tell me this.

Right here, right now.

If you knew? What would you say?

Would you laugh and gossip?

Or whisper and pity?

But you will never know.

It's not your fault.

I am just weak and pathetic.

I take your jokes to heart.

I am too shy, too anxious,

To stand up to you.

To tell you what I think.

What I feel.

Don't worry.

It's not your fault.

I am guilty.

This is on me.

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