We were so young and so alive
until last night.
Your eyes shed tears, more than I ever
want to see from you.
I bet you didn't know
they cut deep into me, and made rivers.
They're still running through me,
whispering, "You're the guilty one.
Yeah, this is all your fault."
I look in the mirror and
my shadowed eyes believe it.
My guilt is overpowered
by my need to make you better.
I should be taking care
of my wounds, still open and bleeding.
But you, you matter first and most.
And if you're not happy,
I have to be there for you.
The dark keeps whispering to me,
and I keep wondering...
What have I done?
I am dirt and should be hated.
But you'd tell me no.
My act of selfishness reached a peak
that I never thought I was actually
truly capable of.
And if my eyes couldn't make the tears last night
well then,
they surely can now.
Because I hurt you...
And you were the only one
that tried
to save me.
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