And I do this to myself….

Every time you decide to ask me a question involving about what you mean to me, It’s always going to be the same answer; everything. You mean everything to me. You’re the reason why I hold my sheets so close to me, the reason why I can’t eat anymore, the reason why I put on makeup to cover up the bags under my eyes, the reason why I’ve cried recently, but most importantly you are the reason I can’t seem to leave this state of mind. At this point my life revolves around you, and yet for some reason you still aren’t happy. It’s frustrating for me to see you sad, but I know in the back of my mind you do this to yourself and I suffer when it leaks out of your body into the world. I’ve given you everything, things that I didn’t even have yet you wanted; I gave them to you on a silver plater. I rip myself apart when you feel like shit about yourself and I kill myself when youre angry at me and yet here I am still with you, and here you are still unhappy. And I do this to myself… I slice off a part of my happiness to fill the hole in yours but it will never be enough. Only until I’m depress will you realize that I’ve given you everything and maybe then will you be happy.