I talked to them through glass
Knowing they couldn't hear
Pretending they were listening
To my words of pain and fear.
I played they were my foes
And I played they were my lovers
But never once did I imagine
To be close to all these others.
One day they came a knocking
And all I did was cry
So the door they pressed open
And they backed up at the sight.
Ripped and tattered curtains
And a painting made of blood
A tiny row of kerneled corn
And a girl left so unloved.
They bent down to grasp my hand
I screamed with all my might
'til one of them assured me
That it would be alright.
So I looked up innocently
As the tears became a grey
And I told them that I loved them
And their faces looked dismayed
I tried to hold their bodies
Hoping they would hug me back
But they just pushed me down
Acting like they were attacked
They left again as I suspected
As terrified as could be
But I guess thats what you get
When contact is with me
but eat at your soul
until you are bones
on a fiery platter,
bitten and broken
by the red-hot beasts
in your pitiful mind.
ALOT OF HATE!