I Hate Them

Words are martyrs

For the sins of my youth

The world wants stories and saviors

Look at my tears, see the proof

God damned bottles lie under my bed

The boy I once saw in the mirror is dead

Now my face is locked

In a dance of death

With her lies

Every breath draws me to closer to release

And another minute added to my sentence

Short, heaving gasps

Jus like

These lies dedicated

To the interim

While she waited for me

To start the second round

Another high, another sound

Just another anything fo game away from here

I hate it

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