waste;

There's a reason I wish--
there was a gun to your face
that you could cry in front of me
that all you could feel is the years
worth of pain;

But I won't let that happen,
no, I'll hide away and pretend to be fine
at least it's easier that way
but there's a monster in me
and I'm not going to shelter her one day
maybe that'll be the day you die
and they lock me up;

But I couldn't kill you
not even in my mind
even if I could picture it a thousand times
in a million different ways
when tears fall--they don't fall for you
they fall from anger, from all this built up tension
and I want to hit you
just to make you smarter

just so you finally get it
and it all makes sense
I'm holding back words,
holding back my emotions
because you can't handle it
and I know it wouldn't be worth it
because it wouldn't dawn on you
nor would it sink into your brain
like a slow-building disease

It's hard to hold a choice
but to have no voice with which to use it
you're so fucking cold blooded
so fucking unoriginal
and it's in times like these
that the spiteful in me comes out
and I wish you were dead;

[in more ways than one.]