I'm growing weary. Can you not see the bags under my dulling eyes. You're words are knives and your lips dipped in poison. No matter the times I try to satisfy and prove my worth, you laugh. You laugh and bring to light everything that I have done wrong, rather than what I did right. I'm tired, I'm tired. Can't you see that? Why I have no desire to wake when the sun pieces the sky? -recklesssensation


















