Damn, my powers of speech suck. I need a new brain anyway, to think. Just please don’t fill my head with silly ideas of love and ‘suicidal propaganda’. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m the bad guy, the bad influence for falling for every gory detail you spew at me.
When you say, “that can never happen again,” and you get this guilty look on your blushing face, I know you’re thinking about the next time you get to experience anything close to this.
I know sarcasm isn’t greatly received so deadpan your dreams because we’re all stuck and going nowhere but straight to hell, “please pass limbo and forget to collect your two-hundred pictures of me”.
You’re not always going to be there for me… I’m broken inside and out and this song of hate has turned into a sad love song… but I want the anger to consume me more than you ever have.
You’re guilty through association. Deal with it!
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