Nice

You were trying to be nice. And it wasn't nice for me at all. You're so allowed to be mad at me whenever I get jealous, as usual.

You asked some questions when I got none. I really can read in every sentence of you that you were so nice. So nice. And again, you're so allowed to be mad at me for I'm crying as hell.

And maybe, you never think that when you're trying to be nice, I'm crying as my heart gets sliced. I'll never be listened like those voices getting faded away by wind.

And she's the wind.