Why do I even write about you anymore?
The anger, the language ...
it only becomes worse.
I'm ready to just soar,
but this pen is like a sword.
Slaying you on a daily basis,
I've really grown to hate it.
But while I'm here again,
I might as well just say this -

The world holds the ugliest of things,
but you take the cake on everything.
How could you ruin me so good?
Break one more bone, I wish you would.
You may be the biggest break in my book,
but you will never be anything but the crook.
This rage is getting rather old,
but I will not remain a silent soul!

I was trapped under your body,
and there are a few things you have taught me.
No, no matter how harmless they seem to be,
there might just be an agenda beneath.
But maybe it was the wicked game you played,
to make me this afraid.
Yeah, I'm thinking so,
but just so you know ...
I am recovering my bones.
I am piling the stones,
and I am digging a ditch.
I've become wise.
I am one of a kind,
never ever again to be tricked.

People beg to be let in,
but I just smirk and grin.
Slamming doors and declining call after call.
I have done it all.
And the walls remain terribly tall ...
Watching and waiting for you ...
To ever dare intrude ...

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