My bones melt
Clay sticks in a toddlers mouth
In the wrong place
Being muitlated and twisted
I'm supposted to be stored
In a dry
Room tempture place
With out the stripping rays
Of the sun

Skin peeling off in rusty strips
The gummy snap back like
A broken hair band
The heat crackling
Chapping and blistering
I'm supposted to be laid to rest
Not over stretched or
Over done

But instead I'm exactly
Where I'm not supposted to be

People say
Loneliness is a killer
But

When you're on your own
There is no one to let you down

Why did I do what I did?
Why do you do what you do?
Why do you keep on brining it up as if nothing's new?
I've tried to forget it, I've tried to move on.
But you just have to say that you've won.
I'm tired of your story and I'm tired of your ****.
I can't do it anymore. So I quit.
The story's the same and it gotten quite boring.
Don't mind me, ignore my snoring
This isn't what it's supposed to be like, it's supposted to be fun.
But that's it no more, I am done.