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I never did like your eyes,
but then again I could never recognize your lies.
You'd think I'm over all of it,
yet those injuries you left me with...
they still contract within my flesh.
Poor me, I'm a museum of open wounds and scars.
Always trying to do the right thing,
yet always getting double crossed.
I admit they are MY mistakes.
Yet above all I still think I should have known...
...I never did like your eyes...
True that my hate for you still goes on,
that I wish you a pitiful existence,
I can only hope my mind will erase your scum,
and your shadow will stop haunting me.