Ya Don't Stop
It's 4 in the morning.

Reflection's in the mirror, mourning.

Chapped lips mimic my intake of passion and lust.

White cheeks find heat in a red rush.

A cold hate races fate through blue blood.

Brown eyes assume the color of disgust.

I hate my guts.

Small pockets drop wallets and the keys to life.

That backyard's growing awfully bright.

I saw the sun and the moon collide,

As my pillow cushioned my declining, closed eyes.

Cybernetic serial killers, hit me up on AIM.

Come cop me, 'cause I'm too scared to stop my own pain.

Courage was crushed under the world's weight.

I hate my face.

Stuck here waiting for the bulb to bust.

Leanin' on a cardboard cut-out, 'cause I've no one to trust.

Ready to drown in the rising tide of smoke in the slums

To become of my own blown lungs.

Didn't lose myself, but I lost another one.

Really just never could find who I was.

I hate my guts.

My eyes ate the insults the chefs put on my plate,

As I looked on, full of confusion, in every way.

Hunger can't tell if it's the heart or the brain

Running from the other's instinctive path of rage.

Disposition makes me feel deranged.

Strapped with a disconnected voice, and too much nothin' to say.

I hate my face.

Too fascinated with then

To be worried about the here and now.

Can't remember what the angel in my chest said,

'Cause the devil in my head sang out loud.

Turned off by the ongoing wow.

We're approaching the final hour.

Kill me now.