All that is good is tasteless venom~poem~
A paranoid sleep, a broken phone,
a single mistake that is all my own.
If I don't have it I think I might cry,
while hospital flowers watch me die.
I'll slit my throat, what a shame,
people don't matter when you're in pain.
Maybe I just have a miserable lack of sympathy for what you've done,
and so still i smile because Sunday funerals are sickeningly fun.
If I told you that I wasn't real would you leave me alone?
My body is a shell, only an empty home.