I’m afraid they hate the way I love.
My whole body, every touch, every laugh.
I know they don’t like it,
but it’s the reasoning I can not grasp
What make giving someone my all
To you seem so grotesque?
Why does it bother you that I want to care?
Is it because your love’s a wreck?
You crush ever ounce of my optimism.
Is that what turns you on?
To know now that I can’t even love myself.
Does that success make you strong?
I’m done running after your prospects,
telling you there’s love in you still.
I can’t try to bring the love out of you,
while it’s my love you try to kill.