I Hate What You Do to Me

Such sweet words, such sweet times

can’t be sure which ones are just lines

to keep me here at bay

while you wonder your time away

Lots of stars in evening skies

but one true light that sees me through

not always there the way I wish

but you’ve got a gift with the things you do.

And though the love can’t be denied

the proclamations do subside.

Not a fan of boundaries or control.

Like my yes’s more than no’s.

But you cross each line

that you make me draw.

And leave me to wonder,

what the hell did I draw that for?

You build me up

when I need it most.

Then you kick me down

and start to boast.

Proud of how independent you are

and proud to be an adult

with your selfish ways.

Guess you think love is a net

that catches you when you fall.

But you spread it out in a way that tangles me

and holds me down.

Never remember the conversations that we’ve had.

The times I tell you when some things make me feel bad

“Opps I’m sorry I never knew,

it’s just a thing I’m going through.”

And you know I’ll be here forever

and you know my love is strong

and you know my heart goes racing

every time you go off and do something wrong.

And you hate how I may judge you.

You’ve a different point of view.

But you fail to see

how you affect me

in everything you do.

Wonder when things will settle?

No, I know they won’t be the same.

Can’t go back to what was.

But can’t take anymore of this game.

Do I count at all for anything?

Does it matter not to you?

Am I just the security blanket to soothe

or a window you only look through?

Can’t you see how it destroys me?

Can’t feel the pain it brings?

You say you didn’t invite it

but you answer ever phone that rings.

You scream that I must trust you

as you feel your way through.

But your judgement has been broken

so what am I supposed to do?

Do a stand here idling

as you travel through your dreams?

Grin through the burden,

while I burst at the seam?

Then you ask me if I’m angry

for you really don’t understand me at all.

And I ask and plead and cough ‘till I bleed,

then say, “No, go ahead dear, have a ball”.