if

if she asked, I'd deny it
if they ask, I'll say no regrets
if he asks, I'll be apt to do it

if you wish to know the truth, i would never tell you

never directly

lately my soul has been filled with discontent

discontent, vexation, restlessness, uneasiness, displeasure, any way you wanna say it.

but, yet at the same time, i am so happy

i feel guilty, although it isn't my fault

i want to fix it, but all i have are destructive tools

my nail would split the wood our friendship was built with, my screwdriver would strip your screw

i do not know what to say, or what to do.

the saddest part?
i do not think i care anymore