Personality Disorders - certain private conversations | Текст песни

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Certain private conversation mean nothing to you now because you're too busy with college or drawing about how I'm your attacker.

You said I was begging for attention and well honey, you were half right. Because I was begging for yours.

Certain private conversations mean nothing to me now because I'm too busy with college or thinking about how I'm your attacker.

You said I was begging for attention and well honey, you were half right. Because I was begging for yours.

Now I'm down on my knees begging please don't do this to us. Don't do this to me.

Because honey, I will grow thick skin to take all of your abuse.
And honey, I will cut my hair short and shave my face clean.
And honey, I will keep my clothes on around people who remind me of you if you come back to me with open arms, open legs and open chest.

///

"boyscout"

I want to write like you. I want to be your big strong boy but know all I'll ever be is your scared little girl searching for safer skin. If I was to ever think I am beautiful, then you'd be the first to know. But you probably already know, you're reassurance to love. You're eyes I no longer want to gouge out. Your glasses are beautiful, leave them on. Who taught you how to crossdress? Baby, I think you're beautiful. If anyone was to break me, it'd be you. I hope you break me, you're beautiful. Teach me to be beautiful. I want your skin. I want your skin to rot off your flesh and I want to wear you like a boyscout badge. You'd make a beautiful dress. The color of your skin upsets me but on a dress it'd make more sense. You're ugly but not in a conventional sense. I hear that you cry now, and I almost always empathize appropriately.

Fuck me. Like a big strong boy or your scared little girl. You've never known me better. Let me vomit in your ears and you'll know everything about me. I want you to know everything about me. What makes me tick, what makes me upset, what movies I'm watching, what I'm wearing, who I'm with. I want to talk about obsession over coffee. I want to talk about the way my life turned out. My mother can't look at me straight, but I'm okay. It's been over a year since I've seen your face, you'd look horrible after a car accident. I hope college treats you well. Do you still think about me? I'm not your attacker, or at least I never meant to be. I wanted to be your baby girl. Where did we fuck up? I wrote "Company" with no clear purpose. Did we fuck up? Where did I fuck up?