Mad Talking, Soft Talking, Fast Talking

You're just sitting there, all hoity-toity. You think you know everything, don't you. Ask people what they think. Don't want to hear it though. You just want to be able to shoot us down, turn us into little pools of melting shame. Right. That's what I've always wanted. And what makes you think that you are better than me and that everything you say should be held over me. I hate that you think you can control the situation. I end up boiling inside. My blood pounding through my veins until my face lights up like a Christmas bulb. You think I want to get annoyed with you... more that annoyed!! I despise that smirk and all of your energy. You don't get it. Just because you act happy and fine all the time doesn't mean that people are buying it. Doesn't mean that people want to be around you. You seem fake. You put on that silly little mask of "Everything's Perfect". I don't want to see it. I live in reality. I have no clue what delusional planet you come from. Can't you just back off? And oh! how I hate the way that you look at me when I think I've said something worth mentioning. That tip of your head, the way that your eyes stare down the bridge of your nose, barely looking at me. How small am I supposed to get? I don't think I am even an inch anymore.

You know, we've had a good time together. We have driven thousands of miles, coasted through country and crawled through cities. I was there for that first windswept thrill. You looked so pretty, all shiny and blue. And I don't care that you have those spots growing near your tires. They add to your charm. Besides, you are my escape. I love riding with you. You know all of my favorite music, exactly how to react when I press my foot down. You're wonderful. I wish I could take you everywhere I go. I wish I could travel the world with you. We've had some pretty great times together though, haven't we? I remember the first drive to school. We were both adventuring somewhere new. It felt great. And I know... We have been through so much and both gotten a little bumped and bruised. I have that scar on my knee. You have those little tears on your seats. But what does it matter?! I still think you're beautiful.

Oh come on. You know you want to. You've been thinking about this forever! No one will know. Who is going to tell? Not me. So, who would know? And who is it going to hurt? This doesn't belong to anyone. No one is going to miss it. Besides, what good is it going to do anyone here? You know, if I had the guts, I would do it. But... you're just so much braver, and better than I am. I know you could do this. I bet, even if people did find out, they wouldn't hold it against you. They would think you were a hero. Wouldn't that be great! Everyone would know you. Isn't that what you've always wanted. I know that you're great. Amazing. But no one else does. If you just do this, this one itsy-bitsy, teenie-weenie little thing, everyone would love you too. You want that, don't you? It would make you feel amazing. I bet you would even be able to tell those people who are always bossing you around what to do. Wouldn't that be great? You could treat them just like they treat you. I bet that would make your life better. Who needs stupid people like them telling you what to do?