Well…
What do you expect from me
I have to take you more seriously.
There is more risk involved than with simplistic casual contact
I told you from the start… You’ve always known that.
What the FUCK else do you expect that I do
No one has gotten inside, been with me since you
Don’t shun me for fooling around, having my fun, be it once in a blue moon
When I’m reminded by you that our time, if it happens, is every time but soon.
I wait and I listen, yet still called impatient
Respect you, your status and space, try to remain latent
But I’m punished by you whether you know it or not
You jump me when you are short tempered, I wish that would fucking stop.
You have never once apologized for the assault or disrespect
Yet I find you prefer to poke holes and discredit what I recollect
How much of this gets rationalized and written off to your stressors
How long can I still be comforted by the smell of cologne that sits on your dresser
Just stop. Don’t discount me, I found strength to tell the others no.
Stop. I have said more than once. Its you and you alone.
You recieve the explanations that no one else gets
And still constantly simplify my weaknesses as simple sex
Yes, when you looked down at my face you saw pain
But blaming you for the cause I fight thus far successfully to abstain
All I’m asking is hold me, confirm my thoughts of esteem
Or if not, give me the solace of knowing that you are as cold as you seem
I almost want my credit for the multiple counts of oversight and discretion
But you would simply add me to your “shit that stresses me” collection
And…
Well…
I lose sleep too
Some, is over you
But what is the point, I wonder, of wishing…
Wishing for a time to come when we can actually pull off this thing
Don’t ask me why I’m taking this seriously
You don’t seem to grasp the risks one takes to be with me
I don’t have to explain that to you, even if i did would you understand?
You can’t judge my rationale regardless, just know I plan no harm to come to you by my hand
Are you sure you aren’t like the others, here to poke at and use
The same as the “supermen” that when I really need help use that as an exit cue…
Cuz here I stand, a bona fide damsel in distress
Waiting, sitting here in the wreckage, in rubble and mess
With only my aggravation and tired tears
I wonder if its delusion or if you are becoming the embodiment of my fears
Still I wait, a latent lady, just here for support…
Even if as call for solace you… one of those fucking supermen… refuses to report