What Do You Do When It All Falls Apart?

You play dirty.

I don't think you understand this, though.
I'm not one to play into your games.
In a crisis-situation, I don't change.
I just get edgy and clever.

So you tell me you have dirt,
I tell you you're full of shit.
You say you've got his number.
I give you his last name.
You demand to have me back,
I tell you I'm not going anywhere.
You tell me you still love me.
I say that doesn't make sense.

So don't think for a second that your empty threats
And fabricated stories
Are going to fool or manipulate me.
I'm slowly dying and I'm stronger than that.
He's stronger than that.

And together, you have no idea what we could do to you.

This is not a game,
and if it was, it's not your turn anyway.
This is not a joke,
and if it is, you're the only one here laughing.
This is not up to you,
and if it was, you'd never have me back regardless.
This is love.
And I don't think you understand that.

This is real.
This is strong.
This is love.

In the words of my brother:

"Shit, that ain't nothin. The other day, I was in my room. I was smokin' cigarettes, I was smoking my mom's cigarettes and this bird flew in the window. So I started smokin' the bird and the bird was like "Hey! Why you smokin me?" And I was like... "idk."