It kills me

But I guess I am meant to be bruised.

I got real good darlin. Of the punchin and the pullin

I have gotten so use to you pullin on my thread.

But I am tired of coming unravelled.

I am tired of how you make me feel

Can I not just love you?

Why must you make this so complicated?

Why must we fight?

I give in you win.

I dont want to beg anymore.

My knees are getting scrapped from this wooden floor.

I feel so hollow inside.

I really am all cried out.

So please stop stabbing my heart with the key I gave you.

I would do anything.

Anything.

If you would just please.

Stop.

It kills me. To be accused of. These things I never commit.

Of being human I error.

But you are the judge and jury.

And I am guilty.

With or without any guarantees.

So hurt me again.

And again.

Keep accusing me.

Because baby.

You sure look pretty.

As you are putting the damage on.