My memory is selective, I always forget.

How real does it look? I smile, but I’d rather be dead.

I usually want to hide away, it feels right.

What does it prove for me to be the one who runs to you?

It’s not me; it’s not all my fault.

I had to forgive for the both of us, bending more than you ever did.

You’ve never had love like mine before.

Are you still mad? My memory is selective, I always forget.

Maybe if I were a little simpler, I wouldn't be so hard to understand.

Maybe if I weren't so obvious you’d still be the one I’d run to

Now I can’t since I’m more than you can stand

More than you can accommodate

More than you can take

More than you can frustrate

More than you can handle.

 If you’re still mad, I don’t care.

You don’t seem to mind, you can give it to me.

I like it even when it hurts.

I just wanted to wake up.

I can’t express how good it finally feels to wake up and feel okay about it all.

It feels so good to finally be released of you and who you are.

You released me and didn’t know it.

It’s never enough, but it was always more than you could take.

When you still wanted again, I fought through it.

Now that I’ve told you, you better listen.

It is dead, as I who you once knew is dead.

I will love another.

Written: October 2010