I still don't think you understand
and I'm tired of trying to make you to
the game was fun until I realised
I'm spending another Christmas losing you
the little words still have value
at least to me they do
but in the end they shouldn't
cause they don't to you
when I think of loving and hurting
I think of orange lilies in the pouring rain
You're the flower of pride that stains
my shattered mirrors and window panes
You're the ghost that stalks my halls
The regret that haunts my dreams
But to you I'm nothing at all
To you, there is nothing I mean
#Anhedonia
forest tinsel
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