VeritaphobiaYou. Yes you.
Remember how we used to play? Back when you and I were young? Remember how we'd run all day, and please recall the song we sung? It's different now though, isn't it? Your soul is dead, your heart is black. I've never met such a miserable git, you're always so eager to attack.
With your words of venom and wit of ice, I find it harder to cling on. Because of you my old recollections of love are nearly all but gone.
We'll never feel the same again, I cannot see you anymore. You're the one to blame, not me, I mustn't feel guilty for pushing you out our door. I just don't want you anymore. Please don't hit me whilst I lie upon the kitchen floor. As I wipe the blood from my face, I fear I'll hear the raven's caw. I cannot. No, not you. Not anymore. No more hurt, not anymore.
Please, don't hit me. Not anymore. My clothes don't fit me. Not anymore. I fear that you'll kick me, upon the kitchen floor. And crawling to the sink, I'll be sick, and beg 'Please... not anym