Pointing the Finger

So you're ready to tell me that I know nothing.

But you're not ready to start your life.

You're ready to spit in my face.

But you're not ready to tell him you're sorry.

You're ready to write me a letter, my newly released deer

But you're not ready to use your voice.

You're ready to move on

But you're not ready to apologize, and mean it

You're ready to turn your back

But you're not ready to tell me about it

You're ready to lose me completely

But you're not ready to think about it

You're ready to turn the page

But you can't remember what you left behind

You're ready to think of me as nothing at all

But you're not ready to say goodbye

You're ready to tell me the tension is killing you

But you're so suicidal you can't draw close to alleviate it all

You're ready to throw your life away

But you're not ready to know what is out there

You're ready to say whatever you want to say

But you'll never be ready to see what it will cost you

You're ready to tell me who I am

But you aren't ready to know the truth

You're ready to hold me and forget everything

And I so so want you to.