finding the words.

I’m a wreck and I know it,
And I tend to show it every chance that I get.
Butterflies in the skies, they just fly on by.
Yeah, they’re making me sick.
They don’t flutter about, I’d do without.
All they do is kick.

Mean it truly,
Sincere heart.
Why do you do this to me?
Tear me apart.

It’s my fault and I know it,
And I tend to blow it, no thanks to you.
Its like you sit and you watch me,
You poke and you taunt me, it’s all that you do.
And I’m not fighting that no, not at all.
Just want to be something, a name you call.
The lips you taste just to fall, madly in love.