Every Minute you spend staring at me makes me wonder about your tactics even more. Every word you say; they all cut like razors, cutting me deeper at every syllable. The lines of your figure are becoming blurred. I keep asking myself if this is worth anything and I can't seem to come up with a suitable answer. I'm always looking over my shoulder for a way out. Its times like this that have me worried. It almost seems like you've pulled my feet out from under me, leaving me with no choice but to stay. The lines are running short as I keep seeing your face in my head. That smile could light up my darkest days, but all the lights have been burnt out. I'm sure your excuses have come from the best in the business, but I wasn't born yesterday. I keep writing with the intention of getting you out of my head. Sometimes things don't work out how they're planned. With every word that comes out of my pen, your face gets etched into my memory a little more. You make me question everything I've ever done. I can't help but wonder how much of it was real and how much was forced in hopes of salvaging whatever I perceived as us. When the day comes that you're standing at that chair with the rope around your neck, I'll be there to watch you chew on the very glass you broke. Would it be a crime to just stand there and watch you deteriorate? If it is, you've been guilty for quite some time. In that case, I'll be content to watch that smile fade from your face.
