(1) In which a person contemplates their friendship in light of their mistakes
I don’t know why I hate myself so much.
Maybe because I hurt you so often.
I hate that I break everything I touch.
Near me, you ought to take more caution.
I try to change, but it’s impossible.
At least that’s how it feels – like I can’t stop.
I know I should feel less responsible.
But who am I kidding? No one is shocked.
I wish I could tell you what’s wrong with me.
You comfort me whenever I mess up.
I feel like a burden, you disagree.
You say to tune out my brain, it’s corrupt.
I wish I could be a good friend to you.
But I’d screw up, even with a redo.