I was taught to clean up messes
Even if they were other peoples’
I guess that’s why
 I try to repair hearts that I didn’t break
Retrieve souls that I didn’t take
And slay monsters that I didn’t make
But I never imagined that some recoveries
Would take longer than expected
I’ve made the discovery that
The best truths are cryptic
And as I suspected
The worst personalities are always scripted
So I’m wondering, are you actually that callous?
A person who enjoys the misery of those they claim to love
But how could you possibly love
When you’re acting solely out of malice?
Are you actually that cold?
Last time I checked
Your temperature rose and cheeks flushed 
To the shade of red as the hair of the one whom you sought
affection
As if I wasn’t paying attention
To the way you shielded your emotions
And rambled on about just being realistic
At night, you’d cradle yourself in your own apathetic
commotion
You see, I was also taught to be realistic
And on the road to being realistic 
I took a wrong turn and found my way to being hateful
Reminiscing about the love I never received in the past
While currently being ungrateful
To the love that may or may not be right in front of me
I’ll let you in on a little secret
We’re all just a little broken inside
We all tend to hide behind
“I’m fine” and “life’s good”
Because even if we could,
Finally find the words to express ourselves
It doesn’t mean we should.
Yeah, it’s our twisted way of justifying our need to being
stoic
Because there’s nothing heroic about wearing your heart on
your sleeve
Why bother? ‘Cause everyone just leaves.
But that’s why I’m here
To help you grieve.