Round-a-bout

I'm trying my best to wax my heart against the tears of confusion, But I know I shouldn't even start to try and predict this conclusion, Maybe my skin isn't as thick as I'd like it to be, Baby let me in, I'm sick of hating me, Sick of hating me, I'm undecided about whether I even have a valid reason to feel this way, I'm so misguided by my past and this exhausting game we play, Funny isn't it, how we've been following a round-a-bout? Honey you fit inside my smile, it's something I won't live without, So why I am breathing? Because it's a turmoiled, painful, tenderly raw feeling that makes me lurch, When I turn off the flashlight to stop, my heart continues to search, I know it's cliché but boy I'm blinded, so unable to see, Can't live without what you provide but it's making me hate me.