I can't stop thinking about cutting myself up

Visual bruises can be covered with makeup

But down to the core I'm all bruises

My little whore gives these excuses



How can this be rationalised?

Your brain's programmed all of those lies

What do you tell yourself about our situation

How can you look at yourself

Without having some sort of revelation



How do you live with yourself?

How could you possibly hurt someone like myself?

The saddest part though, is, I would take you back

You've turned me into some spineless hypochondriac



Now I tend to every last emotion

I'm just so caught up in this I cannot

Grasp this hazed proprtion.



Alright now I'll be fair

I'll just pull you by your hair

I just kick from time to time

And then I'll love you in the meantime

It'll be just like before

I'll be your girl you'll be my whore



I am not an angry child

I don't run hot nor mild

But for some reason when it comes to you

I smile at the thought of hurting you



I smile at the thought of watching you die

I strive off the image of making you cry

I feed off the feeling of, of having you need

I lick the illusion of watching you bleed