I use to be love struck. But you made me fucked up.
Roll up my sleeves and see your name written in the pattern of my cuts.
My blades are all blood stained.
My pillows, tear stained. My eyes, blood shot.
The only smile on my face is the one I cut there.
The only laughter, yours in my head.
I’ll make sure there’s nothing left of me.
Nothing left of that stupid little girl you deceived.
There’s no point in lying now.
Come on, tell the truth.
Why don’t you go brag about it to your buddies?
Tell them what you’ve done.
What you’ve turned me into.
What? No smile?
You should be proud of your handy work.
You should feel joy in my sacrifice.
All this bloodshed in your honor.
You really are a God.
And I, a target for your wrath.