So you think you're a sweetheart? It's real nice the way you lift me up just to knock me down, watch me fall, watch me bleed. Let me hang and grasp on to life. You watch the happiness drain from my eyes in tears of pain. You scare me thinking you'll leave as I beg you to stay. When I ask you to go, you stay anyway. You get a thrill out of breaking my heart. It gives you a little rush. Fills your veins. Travels your body. Lights your skin. Well, I can't say I don't care. I won't say I don't care. There are other people. Plenty. That care. Or at least don't lead you to believe your some kind of princess just to shatter your heart and then chew it. Letting it pierce your tongue, letting all the shared saliva drain mixed with blood. I hate you. I really, truly do.