No physical wound would be
Deep enough to match my pain
Self doubt raging through
My body, writhing
The next time you spit out
Some fake ass apology
Think twice because
It might be the last time you lie, Bitch
Lily of the Valley
The blood on the walls won't dry And my wounds won't scab
Life will go on
While you rot
You will not be missed
While you rot
And before you ask
No, we will not let you die
You'll burn forever, barely alive