Your bad temper piss me off, again.
Sometimes i just can't tell how far apart we've drifted. You may not feel the distance. You may not know you are pulling me away, inch by inch.
It's really hard to stand a hothead like you.
I am surly, too. I admit that.
Trying not to mad at you, trying not to counter a fight, trying not to make things worse. I choose to keep my mouth shut and turn my back.
I'm not gonna tell you how i feel and I'm not gonna explain, because, it surely won't help to relief anything whilst you're still striking your steering wheel, yelling out loudly asking what the hell was happening.
Sometimes, i just want to shoot a bullet right into your head.
I prefer the silence.
So i can keep from going insane.
You ask me to shut up. You ask me to do what you ask me to. You ask me to ignore your madness. You ask me to tell you what's wrong. You ask for an answer.
There is no answer.
Yet, there is only one question left in my mind
'Can i be treated gently?'
