I don't pretend to know you
because I don't think I ever will.
You've taken everything I've known
and mangled it into a new sensation
that I'm not sure I like it.
I looked to you for the first time in love
and now I look to you in fear
because I'm scared of more than just us.
I'm scared of waking up and falling asleep.
I'm scared I've become too attached.
But this newfangled love is not new really.
It's just a collection of all the mediocre good
with scatterings of all the worst bad.
How can I walk away from the past
when it is now the gift you're giving every day?
The past is four letters.
Four letters of hate, pain, hurt, lies.
Four letters that are gone
yet you pour it down around me
like leaves in the fall.
I love you in spite of myself.
No. I love you to spite myself
and though I beg my heart to forgive me my sins,
I cannot bring my feet to run away.
I love you but I promise I don't like it.