Shattered. Break of the loss
What is of the fault? Mines, I want to believe.
Yours? Impossible. Or what I wish to think...
Yet words you speak of me. I feel the razor.
Sweet addiction. Please stop.

Could this be real? Could you?
Your true face? No. It can't be.
Every ******* attempt you stray to my side.
Push away. Ignore of what "was"
Hoping you'd stay away.

The small moments, we share. I want to cry out,
"Who exactly are you pretending for!?"
Never wating to see everything is a lie
But it was all "then." Drifting in ashes.
****** past. Vital vein, keeping me from saying
"Goodbye."