Watching, living.
Laughing, breathing.
Touching, kissing.
Holding, missing.
Caring, fighting.
Running, biting.
Skipping, crying.
Slowly, I'm dying.
I need you here with me.
I feel like I have a fucking disease.
I sometimes feel I have no choice,
The words I speak are not my voice.
The hands you hold are not my own.
When you are with me, I feel so alone.
I am this empty shell, you see.
Abandoned my post, for a life of misery.
Feeling insecure, not quite myself at all.
Where are you, to catch me when I fall?
I fell so hard, so deep and so fast.
I truly thought this was love, and it would last.
But this was nothing but a silly little crush,
Mixed in with a heavy dose of lust.
This thing we had, it was nothing but a deadly ploy.
I gave you my heart, and you used it like a toy.
So now I'm sitting her, pondering life.
Wondering what it could have been like to be your wife.
To hold your screaming child,
To love them even though they're wild.
To wake up to your disgusting morning breath.
And love you every day, until your inevitible death.
To cook your food and clean your house.
To scream like a child when I see a mouse.
But I will never hold your child,
I will neve rknow if they're wild.
I won't wake up to your morning breath,
But I will love you until you inevitible death.
You will always hold my heart,
The words you once wrote me will be fabulous art.
The days we spent together, arm in arm,
The times you kept me away from harm,
Those days will be fresh in my mind.
Because of this "love", I became so blind.
I didn't see what was going on,
I didn't see what was going wrong.
I didn't see that you were no longer mine.
I didn't see the very obvious sign.
The skin on your cheek rubbed raw and red,
From trying to wipe away the lipstick of the girl in your bed.
I asked you why,
I begged you to lie.
And tell me you you still loved me at all,
But you left me here to fall.
I fell into a deep, dark, horrible depression.
I knew your happiness had become my obsession.
But I failed to keep you happy,
You proved that when you'd slap me.
My death was nobody's fault but my own,
Between these two world I'm doomed to roam,
Until I bring you down with me to Hell.
This is a dream that's going very well.
I am not dead, I am not alone.
I am not depressed, I am happy here at home.
I'm imagining the horrible demise,
For all of the imaginary guys.
I am imagining the guy I'd be dating,
I am imagining how much I'd be hating.
I'd be hating the way he looked,
I'd be hating the way he had me hooked.
I'd be hating the way he made me felt.
I'd be hating the beating that he dealt.
I'd be hating the way he'd never call.
I'd be hating the way I never hated him, at all.
I am not crazy, nor am I insane.
Just in so much fucking pain.
I suppose I might be insane,
The chances go up with every man I have slain.
Five, ten, fifteen, twenty.
I think that's more than plenty.
But they all deserved it, the wife beaters.
The pimps, the rapists, the cheaters.
The drug addicts, the junkies, the fiends.
The ones who felt they had all been redeamed.
Redeamed by saying I do,
To who?
Not the woman you cherishes.
No. The woman who perished.
She perished from the bruises,
She perished everytime she chooses.
She stays with you because she's scared.
When all she wanted was a man who cared.
Now she's dead,
A bullet in her head.
She's laying in a pool of red,
I wished it was you instead.
So, you're going to join her in Hell.
The blood gushing from your throat is just swell.
I hope you enjoy your last few minutes on Earth,
For I'm going to tell you of the child to whom she gave birth.
That child was me, but she sent me away.
She left me a note,
And all she wrote,
Was come back one day, and kill your father.
Let him know you're his daughter.
Tell him why you went on this slaughter.
Ask him why he wanted you dead,
Because he felt there was no brain in your head.
He wanted you to be aborted, my angel.
Your fragile body, he wanted it mangled.
So kill him good,
Like I know I would.
It's been three years since that day,
Here in this hospital, they make us pray.
They make us ask God for salvation,
So we can arrive at our destination.
This is a place for serial killers and murderers.
But we're all murderers.
We all kill something, every day.
So I don't see why I have to pray.
Maybe I really am crazy.
Maybe I'm just too lazy.
Maybe I wanted him dead.
Maybe I bit the hand that once fed.
I don't know for sure,
How much more I can endure.
So I'm going to end this now.
With a very loud POW!