I think of you

and as i scream of this endless torture,
i think of you.
and as the razor glides across my skin,
i think of you.
and as i write this song of hope and doubt,
i think of you;
you and all your glamour,
and me draped in rags.
your lies are all so beautiful compared to mine.
everything you are has made me who i am,
and who i'm not.
i think of how much i hate you,
and also of how much i love you.
always contradicting, always ending in pain.
the room is spinning, the blood is flowing.
maybe one day i'll be whole again.