Why?

You know that I mean it when I say that I love you…
Everything else you have to question if it’s true.

I haven’t given you much reason to trust anything else I say…
You know how it tears me apart to lie to you that way.

I promise you that I’ll stop, that I’m done…
Yet I haven’t managed to keep any, not one.

It scares me so much when I do them, never knowing if you’ll turn and leave…
You’d think it’d make me stop, but no, I just pull down my sleeve.

How you can love me, I don’t think I’ll ever really understand…
I notice how you avoid my arms when you reach for my hand.

I don’t think you realize how embarrassed I am of myself…
If I take a pill you have to watch me and make sure I put it back on the shelf

These lies I hate them, these broken promises are torture…
If I didn’t have you I’d probably be dead I’m sure

So why knowing it hurts us both, do I still do these things?
I really wish I knew why I love the way the blade stings…