Tiresome

I was tiresome.

With my begging, whining, and stubborn pride. I took your heart, your faults and stubborn pride and built a large bonfire. I let it grow wild and into an untamed fire.

I was tiresome.

With my shouting, screeching, and stubborn pride. I found cracks in your perfect design. I flipped the reflection to hide my smears. And painted the picture I thought was clear.

I was tiresome.

With the twists and turns, oh my dear. Your head must have spun and with my tiresome fear. Who's right and who's wrong. My pride stung.

You became tiresome.

With your faultless side, your stubborn pride. The perfect design--oh, ur blessed family line. Avoiding vulnerability, with the tiresome old me.

You grew tiresome.

With the cracks you found in our burnt down house. You flipped the reflection to hide your smears. And painted the picture you thought was clear.

You were tiresome.

With your shouts, your anger, and stubborn pride. With the twists and turns, oh my dear, our fear had won. Who's right and who's wrong, it