I'de like to think i do not care what you think of me - but i do.  Your words cut me deep like a thin blade to the back of my hand.

Tonight I'm spent
Pretend this razor is your lips
You're finding ways to kiss
(Ways to kiss me)
Deeply on the wrists

You're right about one thing.  Your not worth it.  So i guess i'll toss the laughing conversations out the window and let the smiles merely hold their memory within me.  Theyll probably stop now that you've got me so figured out. I hope they fade. Flatter yourself and think you know exactly who i am.  You've pin pointed me into this little corner of what i'm about while you sure as hell no nothing as to who you are.  Why dont you put your shattered pieces back together before you smash me on the floor.  Thats what always happens.  I've always wished i could write like Pete Wentz (read his latest enty bridge? damn what a lyrical genius).  But I don't want to be like him.  He writes from such a vulnerable and almost pathetic standpoint, and thats just not me.  I hold grudges, I don't forget what people say, and i take things to heart.  I'm bitter.... and I cant wait to see the look on your face when you realize you lost me.  Then maybe you'll miss all the things that were really the reason you loved me in the first place.  Spare me and let me sit on the sidelines and watch the drama unfold.  I've taken myself out of your little game.


Morgan

The salt is set with open wounds
Doused and fresh