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…

Love Sick.

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.

Death Bed.

My last thought hoping some trtuh will come of sacrifice.

Label me another

“Premeditated Love Suicide“

-Leighrick