I can't tell you that it hurts like hell
That just a few weeks ago he said 'I love you' and I wanted to believe it so bad
That I'm not ok-that its not ok
That I can't think about it-you without a knife in my stomach
That what was I supposed to say?
That I wish that my paranoia wasn't perception
That I know that I'm powerless to stop it
So I have to stand by and watch
And hope that time makes it not hurt
That yes-off course I cried in my pillow
That it makes food taste like sawdust
That it makes sleeping that bit harder
That I wish-i wish so hard that it was ok
But how can it be ok-when its him? And when its you?
That I'm scared its already happened
That I wish it wasn't true.
That I wish I could tell you
But I can't tell you.