their hands drip with blood
I’m tired of wishing anyone would care
that I am face-down in mud
just keep laughing while you stare
I’m on the brink of again saying goodbye
to absolutely everything I own
None of this makes sense,at all
but I quit asking why
when, again, I found her panties in my room.
It takes a special breed of sick
friends for 15 years?
and to throw me out so quick
no, I haven’t moved a thing
are you wondering why?
you know I have no one to help
and God’s all busy up in the sky
he must not have gotten my messages, either.
But this is what I wonder, what troubles me at night
when I go to my bed and sleep I have to fight…
Does seeing me lose everything make you happy?
and if so, WHY?
I don’t care how much I hated a person
if it was my hand destroying them,
it would make me cry…
what if my actions caused their death?
evidently it would evoke not more than a sigh….
from a person who does nothing but lie.