Sunday, January 23, 2005

Sick of You

Just stop,
I’m sick of you
I don’t want to see you
Can’t be near you
I don’t want to hear you
Talking, telling me
The picture that you’re painting
I don’t believe you
And you’re not too good at faking
Making excuses
Communication is useless
It’s a ruthless game that you’re playing
Paying no attention
To the things I’m saying.
It’s painstaking
I’m patiently waiting
And pain is making me see plainly
That maybe you see differently than me

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