The Countdown

I'm frightened to say what I mean,
yet I need to come clean,
this obsession with accuracy isn't helping my lunacy.
Arguments lead to fights, wrong and right - am I worthy of this?

Believe it or not, I know I'm the culprit.
Believe it or not, my feelings haven't changed,
I'm deranged. Begin the countdown.

10, 9, 8...

You use words as bait, and I bite.
I bite, I scratch, I pull, I detach
myself.

7, 6, 5...

Try and understand this jumble,
don't let me tumble and fall again.
I say things I don't mean,
and that makes me the villain.
Lunacy is taking over me.

4, 3, 2...

Do you still love me?
Of course you do.
So don't question my feelings, my love for you. Words mean nothing until they're shouted. And I can't stand my feelings being doubted, recited not as my own.

What do I do? It's the box full of lies and phrases,
they peel me apart.
My breathing fails, dies,
when we fight it breaks my heart.

This has been no countdown, and I'm definitely not done.
This had lead up to you,
above all,

THE ONE.