Enough.

Bloody love and tears,
Jesus- just look at me
and fucking say it,
I want to hear those
pill induced "truths"
spit out of your hot mouth:
you don't love me,
Boy doll stupid.

Kill me just once more,
please baby,
and ha-
write you out of my sucken spirit,
sink into the mad hatter
to stop the crying
and the horrifying sanity.

Oh, don't worry,
morning sickness,
sex between best friends,
I push,
you pull,
and come around again.

And now you sleep
while I feel you loving her,
hurting me and
pretending not to notice.
Daft puppet,
apathetic tyrant,
you make me so very tired.

I suppose I regret falling
in love with you,
happy monster,
you drained me of my self-assurance.
Knowing nothing anymore,
lie to me a little longer
because I need that from you,
I guess, hell,
I don't know.

Nightmare intuition
be gone
from my skull!
I loathe these images
that flash in my head,
jesus turn them off,
I beg you-
before I break
and never regain my fallen angel mythos.

And don't tell me
you understand,
because honey, you don't.
Schizophrenic mayhem abides
in the twilight,
ever lurking
like a virus that's
knocking at your back door:
"I want in," he screams,
"and I know you can fucking hear me."

Join the circus with me,
the inner freakshow in you
always smirks at me in the dark,
inviting my energy to slip inside you
when you're not paying attention.
And deep underneath you,
I know you love it.