A word so commonly used.
Rolled off the tongue so easily,
It's true meaning long lost.
Is the state of my heart.
Those three words
Have lost their meaning too
As you speak them to me
"I love you."
You're all talk,
And you know it too.
It's not what you do.
Your love is like knives,
Piercing through the heart.
At first it felt so good,
But now its no longer an art.
It's a slow and painful death
As I lie here alone in the dark,
Drowning in the sea of my own tears.
As I stare
At the pitch black of my bedroom ceiling,
All I can think of is the sweet sensation
Of a razor blade deep in my skin.
The gentle trickle of thick, red blood
Dripping down my fragile arm.
This is how I remove the poison
You have injected into me
With each of your passionate kisses.
The tears streaming down my face releases
The emotional pain,
The blood dripping releases
The wicked love...
The "love" you have murdered me with.