If you don't fight it,
You might lose your nerve.
And if you don't let go of him,
You'll get what you deserve.
He says, "I'm in love with you."
You think, no, you're not.
He puts the bite marks in your flesh
And leaves them there to rot.
It's almost a disease.
The end is just like cancer.
I ask you why you stab yourself,
But I can see the answer.
Honey, you're a mirror.
I stare back at myself
Through the cracking glass, and I
Find sickness in my health.
I've realized this before.
It only hits me now.
"...And if you don't let go of him..."
Well, come on. Tell me how.
If you're so fucking wise,
Be it when I ask.
All you've ever said before
Is that "no love can last.
Nikkki, leave the stage.
Nikkki, take the hit."
Bitch, you never help at all.
I'm fucking sick of it.
But in between those cracks,
I see a lonely knife.
Answers may not be all there;
I don't need them tonight.
Glancing at my hand,
It holds the violent blade.
"Put it to your plastic throat.
Cut out the life you made."
I follow my instructions.
Blood runs down my arm.
Eyes turn off the bathroom light,
But still, I feel unharmed.
I never wanted to be you.
Choosing not to see it.
Nikkki, wrap your severed soul
Around a glittered exit. |