You are a mess

Sometimes I cry for no reason.
I'm sure other girls do this too.
Sometimes I cry because people hurt me.
Sometimes I cry because it's all too much.
But right now I want to cry because I hurt people.
I hate that every few months I manage to mess my life up enough that I'll hate myself for a week or so, and there will be a dull pain when memories are brought back for a month or so after.
I know I'm a mess.
I don't really need reminding.
Heck, maybe I do.
But you know, I don't know what to do with this mess.
I've never been too good at cleaning.
And I don't know how to fix a mess.
And no one else can fix it, because that's not how it works.
And if I could turn back the clock I'd do it in a flash.
But I can't.
And I don't know why everything happened how it did.

I love Fly, for some reason though the lyrics often change in my head from fly to die.
I love nineties music.