"Aren't I selfish now?
I hate you because you ignore me,
(and you ingore me because you don't even know I'm here.)"
It's sad how the little things show how cruel and meaningless our species can be. No one, nothing.
In the end, we will all just be lost inside of an endless void
That never really began.
Lonesome, but hating those who are soley capable of fixing it.
Loveless, and dreading the ones who really ever cared.
They all died anyway. Lucky them.
And we're all selfish now.
(I love you because you hate me.)
And you know just as well as I do that it's only because I hate myself even more.
Amazing to see that the pieces of me that once mattered are gone.
Dissolved into thin air, inside a heavy, thick climate.
Do you see the suffering? I don't. It's been hidden from me.
Endless tunnels with no walls and no ceilings. The floors fell out long ago as well.
But still we walk through them. We still walk with them.
(Looking for eachother.)
Looking for ourselves.
Can you see me?
(Didn't think so.)
You're so selfish now.
With eyes that scream and those perfect lips that hide the teeth
Teeth that pierce like daggers as you bite down into the flesh
You just wanted to be alone
But that will never (never) be enough to get you through.
It's not my fault you're lost and lonesome
(But the blood upon your tongue belongs to me, only me.)
I promise you that.
Spit at the worthless, but realize that as you kneel on the ground,
It's not rain that hits your face. It's the saliva.
(DNA testing says...the saliva belongs to you)
The ground that swallowed your voice has turned into a deserted black mass
A weapon (of mass destruction) is your analogy for these words.
So as the tears stroke your face, burning and covered in blood, ask me again what went wrong.
Ask me once more where you made the mistake.
So they were all selfish in the end
What a shame, they turned their backs on the ones they claimed to love.
If only they'd known, that the real answer, the real remedy that would save them from all
the death,
Was just to care. Undoubtively care.
But no one ever cared enough to let go and listen.
If they had, they would've found that the answer was there all along.
(All along.)
It's in the song of the 'heartless'.
The ones who write and sing all those sad, hateful, lonely songs.
They were the ones who saw the truth, and they tried,
Tried so hard to show it to you. But listening wasn't an option worth taking.
And living in the end, was always just
The prettiest of all the lies.
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Submission Name: Door Number Two
