I'm
talking as if you'd listen.
Talking but you don't listen.
You're
acting as if you hear me.
Talking but you don't hear me.
We
pile it.
We file it.
Confounded.
Compound shit
then trade nanes
then stake claim.
We toss flame to ignition.
We fan flames in condition
as if each rendition
was sacrificed in tradition.
You steal away
then you hide it.
You challenge me:
You say "Find it"
but these tears burn
and I'm blinded.
You take turns.
You try shit.
You reassure and confide with
just to make sure I'm behind it
by a few steps
at the very least.
We do the most
but I've seen the least.
Can't see the light.
Can't catch a glimpse.
Cant sleep at night.
Can't get a grip.
Can't catch a break from the secrecy
you increase by depleting me.
Would look to see
but LOOK AT ME.
Haven't been the same
since donation.
You don't feel the same.
The sensation
threatens to suck me clean
and drain me dry.
That was once my high
but I now know why
and would rather reclaim my property
lost to your sense of propriety.
With eyes closed, I would try to see
what you would disclose
and what you'd hide from me
but now my wants are needs
and I want my needs
and don't want to need
you to water that seed.
The heart that bleeds
never makes the stain plain
or clear to glean
yet no number of tears
will ever rinse it clean
so save your speech on defiance.
Don't sell me on compliance.
The slew of tongues that you lie with
aren't drawn from love.
Can't pry it.
You tried it.
You force fed
but it won't fit.
You see red
but that's my wrists.
My blade.
My slits.
No word of warning.
No prior stint.
No last letter
or goodbye kiss.
I want mine
and I won't flinch
so scream and shout
while I bite and spit.
No nine tenths.
That's my shit.
You own much
but won't own up
enough to own this.
You don't want this.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
you increase by depleting me.
Would look to see
but LOOK AT ME.
Haven't been the same
since donation.
You don't feel the same.
The sensation
threatens to suck me clean
and drain me dry.
That was once my high
but I now know why
and would rather reclaim my property
lost to your sense of propriety.
With eyes closed, I would try to see
what you would disclose
and what you'd hide from me
but now my wants are needs
and I want my needs
and don't want to need
you to water that seed.
The heart that bleeds
never makes the stain plain
or clear to glean
yet no number of tears
will ever rinse it clean
so save your speech on defiance.
Don't sell me on compliance.
The slew of tongues that you lie with
aren't drawn from love.
Can't pry it.
You tried it.
You force fed
but it won't fit.
You see red
but that's my wrists.
My blade.
My slits.
No word of warning.
No prior stint.
No last letter
or goodbye kiss.
I want mine
and I won't flinch
so scream and shout
while I bite and spit.
No nine tenths.
That's my shit.
You own much
but won't own up
enough to own this.
You don't want this.
Written By: Devin Joseph Metz
