Call It Quits Or Get A Grip

You're talking at me like nothing ever changed
But the real difference is in your eyes
When they can't even focus on my face
And all I can think is how messed up it is
That I only exist when your intoxication
Breaks down the walls between us
And the blood in your veins is tainted.
You're playing the fool
And I'm trying out a new, ironic laugh
At the joke you've become
But it twists inside my mouth
And leaves a bitter taste on my tongue
And I'm left trying to cough up the soured dregs of Us.
I wave begrudgingly  
And my hand spits:
"Grow the hell up
Or at least try to make it right"
And I'm trying to avert my eyes
So you don't see the searing resentment
Pouring out of them
And trying to reach out
To scorch your precious skin.
I'm desperate for you to look as damaged as I do.