I can see you,
straight through you.
I wonder if you see yourself in this way,
or do you see your imagination?
I see your broken heart,
your self esteem in tatters.
The more I try to build you up,
you push harder to 'self destruct'.
You have perfection in your grasp,
you know it as I do,
You see the jealously in my eyes,
the little life that depends on you.
But you still want to throw your life away?
Why do you do this to yourself?
I can see that you know,
that he is lying to you, playing you,
treating you with the same loathing;
with which you treat yourself.
I still do not see why you take your anger
out on me
Is it because you know I will always be here?
Because I will not abandon you like he will?
He does not love you,
but believe me,
I do.
