I'm a nausea, who can't cry.
I'm empty, there's nothing more than my stop line.
I fail promises, just like I've failed chemistry.
I'm hatred, complaining just to complain.
I'm a river of tears that recycles and falls again.
I see life as a test with obstacles and a waste of space.
When I close my eyes, maybe, it won't be that bad.
You won't cry,
You won't remember,
You will heal
From your wasted time that counterattacks you,
From your life with me,
From the time you've wasted.
And you won't know I'm gone.
You won't know that I'm...
No comments:
Post a Comment