Waste

Self-pity will get me nowhere,
but neither will positivity.
I'm livid at my own stupidity.
Tell me how many times I can make mistakes,
because you already feel like one.
Just let me backtrack six months,
and wipe you out.
Wasted hours, days, weeks.
Wasted kisses, wasted feelings.
And no song will make it better,
no amount of words put on this page,
no amount of self-hate.
You are worthless and yet you still cloud my mind.
And I'm sure one day I'll be able to look back,
look back and say it all made me stronger.
But today I don't feel like anything.
And you feel like a waste.