Sunday?

It's not easy.

It's not easy to wake up everyday

When you know,
when you know beyond knowledge that...
not a single thing...

Not a single...
fucking thing
is going to change.

Go look in the mirror,
will you please?
And tell me what you see.

I look at myself and can't seem to look beyond
the fact that you've screwed it ALL up.

Maybe you don't care.
Maybe you can't change.

But does it matter?
Did it ever?

Frankly,
I'm sick.

I'm sick of all your
bullshit.

The story never changes.
The story will never change.

But that doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter that this will always be the same.
What matters is how it's left us all.

You're too selfish to see beyond yourself.
But we've lost
everything
to you.

For once,
for once in your life...
look me in the eyes
and tell me, speak, say:
"I love you."

Screw you.
I don't want another heartless apology.
Much less three words that don't mean
anything to you.
Three words I've tried to convince myself
countless times,
might actually mean something.

Three fucking words you have the power, the will to speak...
three fucking words I'd like to never hear from you
ever again.

Screw you.
Go tell someone else your bullshit.

Because I, for one, have heard this
a hundred, a thousand, a million, a billion
times.

Four words (from the bottom of my heart):

I don't love you.