broken-hearted
we’re all growing up broken-hearted
but we make it okay, get along just fine
and i read this weekend that someone should be trying to save us
instead they tell us its not that bad
and we’ll be okay
tell us to grow up: these are the best times of our lives
maybe that’s why i consider dying all too often.
but whos to say what is too often on the grand scale of things
i know not when i’ll die
only that i am done living.
i’m sorry you can’t fix it.
i’m sorry i’m like a problem
or a prescription without you around
i’m sorry that the only thing i did was drag you down
maybe i could fuck around with him
behind her back: because you were special
and she is special-er (so i won’t)
but you’d know you’re not the only one
and you weren’t the only one
(and he wasn’t either but can i bring those words to my lips?
can i erase these lies from my face?)
maybe i’m just sad today
i don’t know what to tell you
when you aren’t here, you aren’t here, you aren’t here
and secretly i hope you live forever
so that i don’t have to confront all of those girls after me
while the dead body that i don’t recognize looks up at me
and i know why she hated me
(when i think about it i hate me too)
maybe i’m just sad today because it’s april, and i’d be with him
a year ago if it weren’t for you
or maybe i think i’ve made a mistake
i should’ve kept lying
unreal and happier that way.
you were a figment of my imagination
without a personality, i wrote you how i wanted you
and i should’ve killed you with my pen’s words
but i didn’t and you go on
we all leave the theater
feeling downcast at the end of the movie
and we’re all growing up broken-hearted