Is it strange to have made something that hates you?

Lest we forget this negation

Set to separate

Sell me all your pain

All your negligence

I'll be what you thought would never eventuate

I'll show you secondary situations

To swallow declarations or to be dispersed

When it's time to be face to face with anguish

You'll be tied to the vices of irony's retention

Spending every investment addressing deflections

These lethal injections for questions

Reflecting on nothing

Accepting the worst

Make it worse

Seldom ever great

Still they celebrate as I'm roaming around with

my ear to the ground and a head full of shit

Yet I still hear the sounds of the hounds that surround me

They gnashed as I bled for some

reasons I'd kill to believe in

I've sealed my good feelings away to perform

my self-misuse for applauses pausing truce

I don't want to oblige

I don't want to comply to a life that's been left with you

We could be heavenly

But would it change things deemed obscene and irreverent?

Someone calls

Screened, unclean, and a weathering appetence

Seems I've leaned to disease in my heaving

heart (what if I'm cold? What if I'm vacant?)

What if I've seen this depletion before the start?

(What if I've known? What if it's blatant?)

Would I beseech you or plea to be someone else?

(Would it be cordial or far from complacent?)

Could we reprieve this without all of the pestilence?

(I could be wrong but I've seen this before)

What if I just want to watch you fall?