If you can love me,
How can orgasim over the pain you give?
Your promises, your wishes, your grievances, your misery.
All your lies and your plots are only something you always lived.
Keeping my hands tied to your games,
Spoiling me with your lust and your self-pity.
Your dirty games and your untold shame,
Are all the tools you used to once control me.
So I ask does it hurt,
To no longer be your puppet tied to your strings?
Nothing ever meant anything, even when you treated me like dirt,
And then finally lose control of everything?
You know you can't escape the things that make you so tragic,
Apprechiation was nothing to you in my eyes.
Never noticing my rekindled rage, my hate, and what made me sick,
All I felt like was a pawn in your mental demise.
It's not that fun now to be the one who slits her wrist, is it?
To feel the misery placed back onto you.
How does it feel to be treated like shit?
Now I'm winning your favorite game, in cold hearted virtue.
It was too difficult to pretend, and more to not even exsit to you,
To live under that false name that made me so derranged.
Looking at the past, through all the shit you placed me through.
I laugh now, because it's you who lost her own game... |
Submission Name: Your Platinum Game
