Sometimes,
||words||
[[hurt]]
((worse))
{{than}}
_HANDS_

&& he sings songs to me about my eyes;;
You used to say I was a beautiful
||waste of time||

{from my poem "Good Boy"}

I hurt a little when you're around;
hurt a little when you're away.
||Now I have to make up my mind||
which breaks my heart more?

&and there you go;;
getting the best of me ||again||

I'm coming up on sober now;
but I'm still drunk enough to
drive to your house
and throw rocks at your window.

(from my poem "I Wrote This Song For You")

&& It's getting to the point where:
It kills me to be with you;;
and it kills me to be away from you.
I just [havetodecide] WHICH HURTS MORE.

I'm trying to make you believe me when I say:
I'm fine; and
Yeah, sure, we can still be friends.
I'm trying so hard
because I want to believe me, too.

He's got the (( N E R V E )) to admit he loves you ;;
so [[ W H Y ]] can't you say it back?

-Carissa-

It's just that Notebook, Imagine Me & You, Something About Mary, Slums of Beverly Hills, Edward Scissorhands, Grease kind of ((HEARTBREAK))

-Carissa-

And& I almost swear I taste your lies when you kiss me.

-Carissa-