A Love Letter to Agony
Revenge is the sweetest thing in the world
But the after taste is bitter realisation.
To kill you would be to become you
And half of me doesn’t care
The poetry of the bullets carving patterns in your flash resembles the art of tragedy.
But who’s tragedy is it, mine or yours?
Who’s fall does it become, Or is no one left standing!?
Blood begets blood like a contagious disease, breeding thru intensity and infection.
I walk in, put a gun to your head you stare up at me
Your cold killer eyes staring down my piece like you're going cross eyes searching for some kinda truth in the barrel that isn’t there
A part of you is smiling, you just wanna put me off, but the thing is you put me off way before I even walked in.
But than I think, to kill you would be to release you, I’m not that kind, I’m not that generous.
I want you to live forever, I want you to drown in your guilt.
We all know I’d love if you drowned in your blood, but lets be honest now
The thought of your self-loathing consuming you wets my appetite.
You took the happiness, you shut it away in a box and let it burn
You heard it screaming within and you laughed
Well I’m laughing now.
You took my innocence and left me a shell
A walking corpse with nothing but the flavour of hatred in my mouth and the recipe for revenge in my pocket.
You’re not even worth killing, I may not be entirely human anymore, but at least I feel human delight at your suffering.
It’s like a fine cocktail mixed with blood and stirred to perfection.
I’d like to thankyou , without you I wouldn’t be so cold
Without you I wouldn’t blend into the ice of the winter while everyone clammers to get warm.
My darkness is your creation, without you there would be no monster, you and the others like you.
This is my love letter to agony, penned in my own desire, and written on a spreadsheet of broken promises and corrupted ideals.
Lets drink to that and choke on our own saliva like it meant something.
I never wanna stop writing this, this is everything I need to say
But when I break it down, the truth is, you don’t even deserve these words, they’re too elegant for you.
But the after taste is bitter realisation.
To kill you would be to become you
And half of me doesn’t care
The poetry of the bullets carving patterns in your flash resembles the art of tragedy.
But who’s tragedy is it, mine or yours?
Who’s fall does it become, Or is no one left standing!?
Blood begets blood like a contagious disease, breeding thru intensity and infection.
I walk in, put a gun to your head you stare up at me
Your cold killer eyes staring down my piece like you're going cross eyes searching for some kinda truth in the barrel that isn’t there
A part of you is smiling, you just wanna put me off, but the thing is you put me off way before I even walked in.
But than I think, to kill you would be to release you, I’m not that kind, I’m not that generous.
I want you to live forever, I want you to drown in your guilt.
We all know I’d love if you drowned in your blood, but lets be honest now
The thought of your self-loathing consuming you wets my appetite.
You took the happiness, you shut it away in a box and let it burn
You heard it screaming within and you laughed
Well I’m laughing now.
You took my innocence and left me a shell
A walking corpse with nothing but the flavour of hatred in my mouth and the recipe for revenge in my pocket.
You’re not even worth killing, I may not be entirely human anymore, but at least I feel human delight at your suffering.
It’s like a fine cocktail mixed with blood and stirred to perfection.
I’d like to thankyou , without you I wouldn’t be so cold
Without you I wouldn’t blend into the ice of the winter while everyone clammers to get warm.
My darkness is your creation, without you there would be no monster, you and the others like you.
This is my love letter to agony, penned in my own desire, and written on a spreadsheet of broken promises and corrupted ideals.
Lets drink to that and choke on our own saliva like it meant something.
I never wanna stop writing this, this is everything I need to say
But when I break it down, the truth is, you don’t even deserve these words, they’re too elegant for you.