You are always there, waiting,
Waiting for me to pour my heart out.
Out come the desperate words.
Words of my innocent vanities,
Vanities that consume me.
Me, who you can always trust,
Trust me,  for I,
I know that hearts can get too full.
Full with your own toils, and mine.
So pour your heart out to me,
I know sometimes they get too full.

I hate how I cannot help you,
When you cower from my hand.
I hate how I cannot even find you,
When I know you need me most.
I hate how you push me away,
When all I want is to protect you.
I hate that you cannot trust me,
When I wait with open ears.
I hate knowing how scared you must be,
Out in the dim truth by yourself.
I hate when I cry your tears,
Because you cannot cry your own.
I hate how you make me feel,
When all I do is love you.