I will not live to make you happy,
I can at best only live for myself.
It feels like you are on my chest,
Hoping that I will never get away.
Crosshairs locked directly on me,
Is this not already just like hell,
I’m all but out of sins to confess,
And running out of hearts to break.
A gun is cocked, loaded and steady,
Is it your gun or is this one mine,
Will one of us ever pull the trigger,
Or will this be a standoff forever?
No matter the outcome I am ready,
I’ve willingly served all of my time,
And looking back I can only figure,
A change is better late than never.
Drugs can’t fix the mess I’ve made,
Apparently nothing at all will help,
Hindsight is my own worst enemy,
And contradiction is my new name.
It’s not about how much I can take,
It is all about how much I can sell,
I’m too tired, too lazy to breathe,
What is there to live for anyway?
It’s safe to look down but not up,
I am shallow, so is my existence,
The sun shines before the storm,
Long enough to tease me yet again.
Losing all hope is my only crutch,
I haven’t wanted to be alive since,
I saw how little all of this is worth,
Somewhere around the age of ten.
The difference in wrong and right,
Is like comparing orange to yellow,
Which shouldn’t be such a big deal,
Except that I think I’m color blind.
My past is out of mind out of sight,
I try to forget all that I’ve known,
Since I am far too frigid to feel,
The remorse for living a giant lie.
Since money does buy happiness,
And I don’t know how that feels,
Is the feeling anything like living,
In a box office smash fairy tale?
Ignorance and arrogance are bliss,
Bullets and blood don’t seem real,
The good guys are always forgiven,
And bad guys die miserably in jail.
If I could just get up one morning,
As a new person in an all new place,
And forget the legacy I never made,
Don’t you think that I would do it?
I agree with you, my life is a waste,
But it’s not easy to make a change,
Or else I’d do it, if I had a way,
To click my heels and go to Kansas.

The journey is so unsatisfying,
And apparently so is the pursuit.
A million reasons to stop trying,
And a million things left to lose.
Faith is a story told to pass time,
Sometimes used to create hope,
Promising there might be a sign,
Or a light further down the road.
Every road eventually dead ends,
Because the world really is flat,
It is all about how many bends,
Taken until falling off the map.
A road three thousand miles long,
Has to stop somewhere sometime,
Making every chosen path wrong,
One more unneeded hill to climb.
With one foot flat on the ground,
It is past the point of no return,
No mortal man can turn around,
A realization many times learned.
The sun is the only feeling left,
So bright, so far, so unrealistic,
Yet close enough to touch death,
To know it awaits in the distance.
Chase the shadows on the street,
They know how to keep secrets,
Trust lies in the dirt under feet,
The virtue of honesty is a myth.
Ghosts on the street don’t tell,
The answer to the one question,
Asked more than heaven or hell,
Where’s the end, where to begin?
Wish upon the last shooting stars,
They’re never going to come true,
Or give hope when darkness falls,
And a sky never again turns blue.
When daylight feels like midnight,
And ice preserves a resting place,
Pray fear and intuition are right,
That those will be the final days.
Clocks spin in circles endlessly,
Proportional to everything else,
Counting down hours to infinity,
Nothing means more than health.
Sagging eyes and folded hands,
Swing along with the pendulum,
Before turning to dust and sand,
By the light no one can succumb.
A calendar means nothing at all,
Not one single day matters more,
Spring turns summer turns fall,
Turns to winter, over and over.
It’s at best a change of scenery,
To alter the moods of grievance,
So tedious, even more demeaning,
When nothing at all makes sense.
The bones of many men beneath,
Fatigued legs of those survived,
Defeating the purpose to breathe,
Defeating the purpose to be alive.
Did the smart ones give up first,
And the courageous few live on?
Leaving the remaining few cursed,
Is there no such thing as strong?
Is there no such thing as faith?
Do all possess a crown of thorns,
Is this entire existance a waste,
Beyond the point of no return?

This melodrama I call my life,
A never ending circle of hate,
And an overwhelming distrust,
Is it you or maybe all just me?
It is true, Mom is always right,
I regret my decision everyday,
You are useless and helpless,
Just like I’ve always believed.
I wonder if I were never born,
If the world would ever notice,
Am I the cause or the effect,
Or the byproduct of a failure?
I can’t take the blame anymore,
I can’t tolerate one bit of this,
Am I that much better off dead,
Rather than in a life of yours?
If I had it to do all over again,
Will my fingers hide these eyes,
Long enough for me to relearn,
Good and bad, right and wrong?
Even worse, will I only pretend,
That I am not this empty inside,
To give me strength to return,
Pain I’ve tolerated for so long?
I have this space all of my own,
I am growing or it is shrinking,
These days I feel like exploding,
And attempt not to implode first.
This mess is all I’ve ever known,
The outcome has got me thinking,
I am still here all alone caving in,
Expecting and getting the worst.
I feel as if I am only a waste,
Oxygen quite honestly misused,
Water taken and pissed away,
And a life nobody really needs.
I am counting down the days,
Until the one that I’m rescued,
If it’s the devil or if it’s a saint,
It still beats my so-called reality.

Some days I think the sun will,
Never reach me in plain view,
And I’m far too tired to know,
If I can survive one more fight.
I can’t see through the tunnel,
And I don’t want to continue,
Without some glimpse of hope,
All I ask for is artificial light.
There’s nobody close to here,
I forget the comfort of home.
My skin cracks like concrete,
So that I’m completely broken.
I tuck into submission in fear,
Of dying painfully, yet alone,
Once again accepting defeat,
In the dark with my eyes open.
Some days I know God is real,
And he is a fucking masochist,
That forces me into this room,
Pitch black, and nothing inside,
Windows are covered by steel,
And chains drag on my wrists.
I fully expect my certain doom,
Until I find some artificial light.
I sweat and burn from inside,
As demons push their way out,
In search of a brighter place,
That I am still yet to discover.
Is it imaginary or am I blind?
On the best days I still doubt,
My hand is in front of my face,
So ideas of escape are absurd.
Maybe I am meant to be in here,
And I need to accept the fact,
I am supposed to suffer forever,
If I can live just to see tonight.
I look for the writing to appear,
Except the walls are still black,
How can I survive having never,
Found any sort of artificial light?

I don’t know what I did,
To make you hate me now,
I also don’t seem to care,
You’re less than a memory.
I don’t need an analysis,
Indirectly telling me about,
The things you won’t dare,
Stand and fucking tell me.
I have never harmed you,
Although now I wish I had,
I might be fucking crazy,
But at least I’m not a fake.
Your mentality only proves,
Your mind is hardly intact,
I am not as you portray me,
I offered you an escape.
You were gone from my life,
Before you could dismiss me,
Whatever makes you tick,
Is beyond comprehension.
I bled for you every night,
It was not like it seemed,
I don’t think you are sick,
You just crave the attention.
This is all about you dear,
And I don’t need to deny it.
If you’d look me in the eye,
I’d likely spit in your face.
You try your best to appear,
As an intellectual little bitch,
Your whole life is one big lie,
Every minute of you a waste.
How could I hold you back?
I only tried to give you hope,
And to help change your life,
That I left you free to choose.
The only thing that I asked,
Was to sincerely let me know,
How you felt about me inside,
Not to leave me subtle clues.

Sorry dear, I’m not coming home,
However many excuses you’d give,
And I do not even think I know,
If I have a good reason to exist.
A living room lamp shines bright,
There’s nothing in there for me,
Right now I am too hurt to fight,
Or cut your throats with humility.
This is another inexcusable deed,
Meant to punch me below the belt,
I see all the signs and I can read,
You’ll be right next to me in hell.
We are all victims in this ordeal,
Except it’s going to hurt you more,
The torment in me isn’t even real,
I can give you true love to die for.
There’s fifty synonyms for hate,
I want to define them all for you,
Honesty is the most amazing trait,
And obviously one you never knew.
I’d rather carry my broken heart,
Than to tote around a broken neck.
Hope he is everything that you are,
To make you both simple to forget.
My lungs collapse under pressure,
And it’s getting harder to breathe,
This time I feel like it’s your turn,
For your lungs and heart to cease.
You’re different, you are special,
Remember telling me that before?
The only time you weren’t awful,
You were unconscious on my floor.
All the lights in the house are on,
As you claw to find the escape,
Everything I need inside is gone,
As your body is engulfed in flames.
I don’t want to hurt you I swear,
I recall hearing that line before,
Fuck regrets, I don’t even care,
You won’t get to touch me anymore.
We’re all victims trapped in lies,
And nobody ever wins the battle.
It’s not that I need to see you die,
I’m too ice cold for that to matter.
There are fifty antonyms for love,
You need to know them very well,
Teaching you now would be tough,
I will remind you again deep in hell.

With the eyes of the weary,
And the strength of the weak,
I travel this road helplessly,
In a line with millions more.
I walk under the sun, searing,
As it subdues me to my knees,
That keep on chasing a dream,
Which could be just folklore.
I peel off all of the blisters,
From this merciless endeavor,
To drain myself of the poison,
That is killing me regardless.
Does this God really exist or,
Can I chase my tail forever,
Fighting for life to never win,
Or even justify these bruises?
We all reach up to the clouds,
Hoping the hands of salvation,
Will come and take us away,
From everything that is wrong.
How can God be looking down,
If he allows total devastation,
To decide ones untimely fate,
Without parity or explanation?
I hang my head not in shame,
Rather out of a lack of hope,
Because I’m sick of looking up,
If the sky is always the same.
I plead for more sunless days,
But I’m afraid of the unknown,
Blisters bleed and drip of pus,
I wish you could feel my pain.
When will this come to an end,
Or is it too out of your control?
We live to be judged by you,
But you can’t stop a massacre.
You miss death and oppression,
Just to tie strings to our soul,
It seems to me you have no clue,
You just place blame on Lucifer.
A powerless man with a weapon,
Becomes more almighty than you,
How can I justify worshipping,
A man that can’t even save me?
It seems to me that a mortal sin,
Is you letting man decide who’s,
Life is randomly worth stripping,
Without the heart to intervene.

A rope to the throat, or a knife to the heart,
Neither hurt like not knowing who you are,
Remember when I stuck my foot in my mouth,
As I said you’re the one I can’t live without?
Obviously I was wrong for the millionth time,
I’ve been without you and I’m tired of trying,
To make all of the wrong things right anymore,
Because I’m lonely, depressed and I’m bored.
I told you that I would trade everybody else,
To have you since I don’t have a soul to sell,
And now I’m here to live or die all by myself,
Or to take you and introduce you to this hell.
This must be why you said you would worry,
Because you fully expected to do this to me,
You had an agenda from the second we met,
How could I be so naive to have my mind set,
And think that you could really be that girl,
To give a meaning to my meaningless world?
I cannot even recall the sound of your voice,
Without thinking about all of those evil ploys,
Running through your fucking demented mind,
You must have assumed I was stupid or blind.
I am tired of being the one that you run to,
When everybody else has had enough of you,
I hope the next time I see you running to me,
Is the last fucking time that you ever breathe.
If I’m not so lucky, and you continue to live,
I want to cut out your tongue with a dull shiv,
So never again will you promise that you care,
And disappear again for no reason into thin air.
I want to sew your legs shut after your mouth,
And chain you to the basement of your house.
I want to leave you without food or fresh air,
Until those who know you no longer even care.
And I hope it gives you plenty of time to think,
Of what you have done to push me to the brink,
Since then you’ll feel just like I do right now,
You’ll wanna kill yourself, but won’t know how,
When your hands are tied and your mouth shut,
And you had no hope so you pleaded for love,
So somebody can wave it in front of your face,
And remind you of the joy you will never taste,
Until you lay there trying to hold back the tears,
Thinking about how cold and desolate the years,
Are going to be if you have to spend them alone,
And you’d do it all differently if you had known,
How badly you could hurt me without even trying,
By telling me you would love me and fucking lying.

Meant to die, but only to die alone,
Since God doesn’t reward traitors,
Fools, liars, or heathens like I am.
Hope is for people that are prone,
To become something a lot greater,
Than a rotting soul, the Son of Sam.
This is for you, in spite of you, mom,
Your choice still haunts me everyday,
I’ve got no love for the female race.
How could you give up your only son,
And go about your life just the same,
Before ever looking him in the face?
I live in my own little fantasy world,
Without a perception of leadership,
Except for these voices in my head,
That feed on the blood of the girls.
I am not really crazy, I am a sadist,
With no remorse for the blood shed.
I am Mister Monster, I will be back,
To make my ailing father Sam proud,
As I hunt with a forty-four handgun.
It is in my strongest conviction that,
My victims will rise from the ground,
And I will then be a worthy husband.
I am not the killer, I only hold a gun,
And my fires make me feel like God,
Do not judge me, this isn’t my fault.
Mother should have had her abortion,
So maybe then, Satan would have not,
Captured me and used me as his pawn.
I beg you to kill me if you catch me,
It’ll be the best thing for you and I,
Since I will never think clearly again.
Kill me quickly so you may release,
The hounds of the devil in my mind,
And you can put my torture to an end.

I look myself in the mirror everyday,
Just to cringe when I see who I am.
I have turned out to be what I hate,
I am nothing, I am not worth a damn.
I recall being assured at a young age,
That I can be anything that I dream,
But this face has had its better days,
And my mind is begging me to leave.
Is this all that I thought I could be,
Or was everybody feeding me lies?
How can they promise I’d be happy,
If I am no more than too old to cry?
I never wanted to grow up a failure,
I never actually wanted to grow up,
Although I had to, I can’t show for,
Some seven thousand days of no luck.
I wish I knew how to make a change,
A change for the better just one time,
Each day looks, feels, hurts the same,
This punishment cannot fit the crime.
I am seeking the voice of salvation,
Without a bit of hope, trust or faith.
I give in to every single temptation,
For all that I care, heaven will wait.
Or heaven will never see me anyway,
Since I do bad all for my own good,
And I feel far too immoral to pray,
So it’d all be in vain even if I could.
I can just continue eluding myself,
As if I’m a stubborn, ignorant child.
And keep on blaming everybody else,
As I hopelessly deny being in denial.
I wish I were still an oblivious infant,
Innocent and unknowing of my fate.
In hindsight I should have listened,
When you said don’t piss my life away.
This will be the ultimate death of me,
I can’t pinpoint where it went wrong.
It will be a relief rather than tragedy,
I’m past being saved, I’m too far gone.