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titles arn't my thing
all i want to hear is the sound of my own hatred
flowing through my headset
like a recycled emotion
beating blacker and less frequent
dying with my growing hatred of myself
you do it
to me i am s**t
and it's because
every word of grace you place upon me
is shattered by the way you say you love me
i see no life in your eyes for me
only truth when you cast down your doubt
only weakness in your voice and mine
With all that i am
I can never make you happy
Not with me
Not with anything
it hurts
So much my eyes can't cry
but my blood boils like acid
pulling my skin farther away
deeper in the dark
so i will never see that look again

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