I'm not in existence for mere entertainment,
your vehemence can't haunt my dreams tonight.
I'm sick of fighting back tears,
choking on the lump within my throat.
Melancholy fills the air in which I breathe into my lacerated soul,
leaving my body responsible for everything gone awry.
Each tantalizing word that leaves your poison-laced lips accounts for a night in which I lie awake,
breathlessing crying myself to sleep.
Eventually I will drown in my own sea of crimson tearsdrops
and I will no longer be a problem
to you.
I'm uncertain if you will ever say
you're proud of me,
but mayve everything I do just isn't good enough.