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pleasure in your pain
I’ve got to get away
I’ll hurt you like the wounded prince
Who even still calls my name
Can’t trust a pretty boy
He'll throw dirt upon your name
and spit on your grave
A searing hot knife
To a dead and gone face
He wants to shame
and take
and break you
Planting the shrooms
That break you down into your purest form
Just so he can do it all again
and watch as you squirm
Clawing the gravel to escape
and taking pleasure in your pain
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Rambling about a past relationship that I still can't seem to get over. But that's how these things go, I guess.