Your Entertainment

I'm tired of being used as your sick form of entertainment.
Something inside tells me to walk away.
I just can't find my shoes.
I can't find my shoes.
Because you hid them on me.
You want me to walk over broken glass.
Broken glass.
You want to see me wince as the shards pierce my flesh.
I'm sick of bleeding for you.
Bleeding for you.
All over for you.
You want to suck my soul from my body.
Toss it aside like some worthless commodity.
I want to claw my eardrums out.
Claw my eardrums out.
Sick of hearing your apologies.
Worthless lies.
No such thing as sincerity from your lips.
Your callous words are killing me.
Killing me.
Double edged tongue is cutting me from the inside out.
I think you like the taste of my bleeding flesh.
Because I am being used as your sick form of entertainment.