There’s too much confusion just to let the dust settle.
The shit hit the fan, and now my heart is in shambles.
Trying to pick-up all the pieces to the puzzle, but those missing have been swept under the rug.
I got this illness…
Curious, yet left without answers
The bush is not the only thing being beaten around.
I no longer wake up with a smile,
Now I live in a frown.
My heart is building up its walls again, a safer house.
Resentment unfortunately is the foundation for my anger.
These lies have enclosed my heart in inflammation.
My mind couldn’t keep its thoughts off premeditated suicide.
I enter the panic room.
I put this love gun to my temple, as tears of passion run down my cheeks;
While my trigger finger frees me, and fills my medulla-oblongata with these hollow tip uncertainties.
Bloodshed, my loves sinks beneath me, and a sea of red is engulfed by my bedsheets.
My last thought hoping some trtuh will come of sacrifice.
Label me another
“Premeditated Love Suicide”