this tears for you
I HATE FUCKING MYSPACE AND ALL ITS FUCKING WHORES
love is fucking killing me.
Is it just my imagination or does it seem as though this is a war I simply cannot win.
I beg for your attention but it’s impossible to keep it for more than an hour.
Don’t you understand you are the only thing that’s ever on my mind?
Instead you crave the praises and the lust-filled words of whores.
Is that just my imagination?
This is a breaking down point that I cant seem to overcome.
I’m stuck, and I’ve been stuck. You’ve got me completely frustrated and raged.
I want the world to know who my heart belongs to, forget other men, I wont touch them!
But you…. No, you have a deeper desire it seems. You want it hidden, you want the whores to keep pouring in.
It makes me sick to see how you just toy with me like I’m nothing.
It makes me sick to hear you say you aren’t attractive when you know every girl would swoon at your feet.
The way I do… and you know it. You love to see us all fall. And me, the love you care about, No.
How could that be when you put me in situations like this.
I’ll give it a day, just to see how the girls will all come flying to your request.
In their seemingly innocent little minds, they’d rape you in a minute, and you want it.
I anger when I know some other man is trying to get me into their arms,
But you encourage the whores. You call out for them, don’t you.
Fuck you and the whores. Each one the same. You must be unsatisfied.
Every word that leaves your mouth, every praise, every comment echoes through my head for eternity. You have me drugged.
And you say you feel the same.
You don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t beg for their attention, and hide me away.
Am I that much to be ashamed of? Is it so bad that everything I’ve given you is considered unsatisfactory?
I have chill bumps from disgust. Time after time I’ve found the whores everywhere.
On the dresser, in the laundry pile, openly showing their affections.
And I’ve said something only once. Only once.
You said you didn’t want to ever hurt me. You swore you never would again.
Well you do. Every day I see you encourage others to fall in love with you.
Every day I see you praising them and not the one who you so “love”.
Go ahead and give in to the lust. Give in to the power of that God forsaken shitpile of whores!
Because when you do, I’ll sit here. And read their praises, and read your response.
And I’ll take the punch and bite my lip, knowing that you don’t care that I’ll see.
You don’t care that it breaks my heart knowing you wouldn’t show the world your love for me.
If it’s even truly there. I gave you everything I had. And you return it, with this.
love is fucking killing me.
Is it just my imagination or does it seem as though this is a war I simply cannot win.
I beg for your attention but it’s impossible to keep it for more than an hour.
Don’t you understand you are the only thing that’s ever on my mind?
Instead you crave the praises and the lust-filled words of whores.
Is that just my imagination?
This is a breaking down point that I cant seem to overcome.
I’m stuck, and I’ve been stuck. You’ve got me completely frustrated and raged.
I want the world to know who my heart belongs to, forget other men, I wont touch them!
But you…. No, you have a deeper desire it seems. You want it hidden, you want the whores to keep pouring in.
It makes me sick to see how you just toy with me like I’m nothing.
It makes me sick to hear you say you aren’t attractive when you know every girl would swoon at your feet.
The way I do… and you know it. You love to see us all fall. And me, the love you care about, No.
How could that be when you put me in situations like this.
I’ll give it a day, just to see how the girls will all come flying to your request.
In their seemingly innocent little minds, they’d rape you in a minute, and you want it.
I anger when I know some other man is trying to get me into their arms,
But you encourage the whores. You call out for them, don’t you.
Fuck you and the whores. Each one the same. You must be unsatisfied.
Every word that leaves your mouth, every praise, every comment echoes through my head for eternity. You have me drugged.
And you say you feel the same.
You don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t beg for their attention, and hide me away.
Am I that much to be ashamed of? Is it so bad that everything I’ve given you is considered unsatisfactory?
I have chill bumps from disgust. Time after time I’ve found the whores everywhere.
On the dresser, in the laundry pile, openly showing their affections.
And I’ve said something only once. Only once.
You said you didn’t want to ever hurt me. You swore you never would again.
Well you do. Every day I see you encourage others to fall in love with you.
Every day I see you praising them and not the one who you so “love”.
Go ahead and give in to the lust. Give in to the power of that God forsaken shitpile of whores!
Because when you do, I’ll sit here. And read their praises, and read your response.
And I’ll take the punch and bite my lip, knowing that you don’t care that I’ll see.
You don’t care that it breaks my heart knowing you wouldn’t show the world your love for me.
If it’s even truly there. I gave you everything I had. And you return it, with this.