Everyone knows that I am always right about one thing; you and I do not ever seem to work out. You tend to bring out the unpleasant in me. Ah, but to each his own they say. Sometimes I do like a freak that is grown. I know you like a bad bitch from a decent home, which I know I was raised in and I know I tend to be. I know these days I’m feeling single, but there are times when you make my days look brighter. Because of you, I don’t feel alone. There really isn’t anyone in this world but you and I, there really isn’t. So I ask you; let there be you, let there be me, and let there be love. I know it’s there. You know it’s there. Yet, why am I still on the edge? I still want to flip this coin in my hand. This coin helps me make all of my important decisions in life. Maybe I should send him to the White House. Anyway; by flipping President Lincoln, he will be helping me choose to continue hunting with my nose to the ground, this smile never on.
Or, will he be helping my heart continue beating every time I think of you? I love you, I don’t. I need to see you, I do not. You are my one aggravation in life that I feel sometimes I have to talk to everyday. But I don’t want to break your heart again. Well, you broke mine, too. It hurts me to have to hurt you. You never did leave my mind, and a lot of things tend to.
I love you. My mind is just a little more confused than my heart. Two different pieces of my body just do not seem to want to agree with each other. But, when my eyes set themselves upon you, my heart begins to skip a few beats. It starts to send some signs of love up to my mind, telling it that you may be the one who was put here for me. The one that I should not push away for the fourth, the fifth or twelfth time. Then the other pieces of my brain start to over analyze this whole “love.” Is this for real? Are we really meant to be?
Is it wrong that I keep thinking we could be something for real? I really do need to give up, but it’s you. I should not let you come back, but it’s you. I sometimes feel too young and too dumb to realize I should have given you all of my hours when I had the chance. But there you go again, making me love you, now I’m feeling stupid coming back to you. Every inch of you is not always perfect from the bottom to the top. But neither am I. I’m so sick of all the fights, I hate them. So can we just start this again, for real, with a clean slate?