Sometimes things are supposed to hurt,

and they don't,

or they shouldn't and they do,

either way it's all on you;

your mental stability,

your mind-game ability,

emotional, mental artillery.

 

There's a certain way I move,

when I give you the non-committal slip,

I watch your traps,

make sure not to trip,

up, I have to avoid capture,

leave you waiting for my rapture,

we weren't made for one another,

we just end up hurting each other

 

I hate rhyming,

don't know why I do it in the first place,

it never lets you fully express yourself,

especially when you're living in the worst place,

possible,

it's plausible,

I just like to suffer,

keep making it rougher,

mental frustration,

extreme pupil dilation,

your mind an empty-souled nation,

blank yet devouring like,

staring into the eyes of Satan.

 

And that's where I live,

when you try to make me choke back tears,

but the faucets off,

overestimate your own strength again,

you're predictable,

no surprise from you,

you're egotistical,

completely sadistic,

ultimately narcissistic,

you make me go ballistic,

with the shit you peddle for truth,

as if I can't feel the rain,

through your makeshift umbrella-roof.

 

Now we're both soaking wet,

and that's because I turn you on,

your tear-ducts that I mean,

the wounds you left were unclean,

and not healing properly,

a one-sided game of Monopoly,

where you tried to steal all the property,

and never even spared a thought for me.

 

Why did we live like that,

and make each other suffer,

used one another as an experience buffer,

we segregated the real world from one another.

 

You must miss me,

everyday but today,

or maybe today the most,

you won't escape my phantom,

can't get away from my ghost,

It follows you,

trying to choke you with dirty hands,

holding you back just like your new man,

and that's the best thing for you,

imagine letting your ambition,

be free of your inhibition,

and having to face your dream,

and realize you're not the queen,

you're just a lowly servant,

pretending to hand down verdicts,

but the jury's still out on your life,

and what you will become,

how long will you try before you're done,

and you just give up again?

 

All that potential,

and no motivation to achieve,

you needed a new man,

invented a brand new disease,

an excuse to bring you to your knees,

but he isn't going to bring the chain,

that's all your own self-supplied pain,

how long til he complains about the rain,

and decides to ditch out,

even if only emotionally,

leaving his physical shell,

so you have a home to crawl into,

when you're sick of trying,

and you want to resume dying.

 

What more could I ask for,

that I didn't already have?

I had the promise of a lifetime,

that fell apart, because you were sad.

 

And sometimes that's how you'll roll,

when you invest years of your life,

an empty chest, vacant of a soul,

from your ex-lover's twisted little knife.

 

That's just the heart talking,

not being filtered by my brain,

sometimes the best way to say it,

is to lose focus and spit all the pain.

 

That's what life's like sometimes,

on the darkest nights,

I got caught up dancing in the dark,

a never-ending fist fight,

and look where that got both of us,

endless blood, broken bones, and pus.

 

I realized your pool was too shallow,

I needed room to swim,

I needed to spread my wings,

achieve my dreams,

not stick around swimming,

in your lifeless streams.

 

You had potential,

and you smashed it under your heel,

shrugged the responsibility,

refused to accept dreams were real,

and now you're a ghost dancer,

jumping through your different acts.

 

Can't you hear the clapping,

the curtain's closing,

and there's nowhere else for your display,

once it shows your act will go away,

and maybe it's for the best,

you can discover your true self,

stop hiding it on a dusty shelf,

if it's even still alive,

i wish you weren't dead inside,

because I remember you,

despite what you think of me,

and I recall when you loved me,

and the way I loved you back,

before you destroyed yourself,

and left your ambitions for dead,

that was the fatal moment for us,

I took a shot to the back of the head,

and bled you out of me.

 

Sometimes I can still taste the blood,

your toxicity that poisoned my mind,

is still reminiscent in the taste,

your shadows still dance in your place,

but I got over them and their thin frame,

I escaped your madhouse,

rejoined the world of the sane,

just in time,

before your personality feeding frenzy,

your ultimate killing blow, to end me,

there was no hell you could have sent me,

to match us darkness, because we were empty.

 

Never better,

trust me,

never better.