I can be harsh at times.

Brash.
Crude.
But thats only when I'm pushed past my limit.
You attack, and attack, and attack, and you don't expect me to attack back?
Its like cornering an animal and not expecting it to try and escape.

I'm not mad, don't get me wrong.
I'm well past the days of getting mad.
Thats the old me.
I'm not mad, I'm tactful. I'm not mad, I'm simply giving my input. Using my weapons of choice.
You have secrets of your past that you think I'd be afraid to hear?
Honestly, I'm not afraid.
I'm glad that she's at least heard some of my past.
I could sit there and just tell it in installments.
I'm an open book.
Youre a closed door.

When did you start selling doors?
When people started closing windows.


There is always hope.

You can't understand exactly how I feel, because youre not at the recieving end.
You're holding the rod.
I cut the fishing line a long time ago.
I'm way gone, bait in hand now.
And you're just gazing at the water.
At your reflection. Wondering how you got like this.
You're strong, you're just not the right kind of strong.
And in the wrong moment, that could just be your downfall.

Never trust anyone to the point where your back is exposed.

Oh yeah. Also, DONT SAY "I QUIT."