It's 3:51 a.m. again and i haven't slept in weeks;
Darkened eyes for a taste of god, an ailment, and a leash.
Those precious things that were cornerstones of a precious simple life
Are now precious victims of a 'self' driven dream outlined in shades of christ.
My strength was long invested in an angel with one wish:
To hold my hand until she died, forever sipping bliss.
And now my stregth is a viscous sword that strikes the ones i love
And they wait to be further demolished cause solace is lodged in those i touch.
Such fulfillment resembles a vomit soaked sanctuary - killing a new spot inside me;
Depression replaced with a new persecution - of victim and culprit i guide me.
Of victim and culprit i guide me!
There's a psychotic demon inside me...
There's a sensitive loving retractable heart - if i give you my wound, will you hide me?
If i bleed you a trail will you find me?
When i put you through hell and then ask for your empathy: eat your contempt for me.
Knowing my penance occurs as i write through this sin with a relentless vengence
Letting you know that my life is a fantasy suitable for the fetish of a bleeding demon begging for god's forgiveness.
