Live Another Day

Everything I do for you doesn't matter in the end.
Whether you're my lover or whether you're my friend.
I'm cast aside and rejected every other day,
all because I wanted to make sure you were okay.

You don't talk to me and I don't talk to you,
yet this love we feel inside seems so true.
I want to rejoice for this thing we posses,
but there's something I have to confess.

This hurts and this bleeds and confuses my mind.
It takes all my senses and forces them blind.
It burns and it loves and it jumps up for joy
to build up to the end where all it does is destroy.

I want and I need and I think and desire
all while I walk through hot coals and fire.
I dream and I wish and think of what could be,
just to amount to if I should stay or flee.

Is this wrong? Is this right? Is this meant or a trap?
I don't know if I should boo or if I should clap.
I love, but I hurt, but it's all okay,
just to know you live another day.