What's with the poetry trend, sad to say but mines a lot different
He is the skeleton in my closet,
The cold lifeless cadaver in my trunk,
His faces still haunts me,
His laughter ringing in my ears,
His presence plagues my dreams
Creeping like the still small voice in my head,
Late at night,
I am vunerable again
There i can still feel him
And I am suffocating again,
He told me he "loved me"
And gave me back my heart,
Rotten and soiled with tears,
As I made scars to heal the pain,
Paranoia choked the trust out of me
Paradoxy making me confused,
Alone and misused,
MAKE THE BLEEDING STOP
Inject it in my veins
Some new drug to numb the pain
So I wont have to feel anymore,
I don't want to feel,
I don't want to be real,
He was dead to me,
Ressurected in haste,
Trust becomes a waste,
MAKE ME THE PREDATOR
NOT THE PREY
KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT IT WAS THAT WAY
I'm not the one holding the knife,
The past embraces me
As i drown in the extremity
Of my own bleeding heart.