A Little Bitter

How the mind does shout for rest when the body's shaking,
The tightness in my chest still your leaves I'm raking,
Lord is this a test was it fun creating?
My God's a little sick and he wants me crazy.

Who are you who can say,
It's okay to live through me?
Live to be part of me,
You're a wrinkled magazine.

Was it something that I said?
Was it how they're breaking?
I'm so selfish paying your rent,
While your blood I'm taking.

You spend me like a tree,
Dirty dollar bills for leaves,
Dark in a sea of my seeds,
And the tears on which you feed.

You feed...

Your body is a temple, a dormant alter where infantile men lay around, itching and nibbling for a small peice of sanity, of which you cannot give.

SHIT!

Individuality buying pennies with my soul,
And a little Heaven spent while the Hell I'm taking.

Theives parasites hide from life,
You know they'll remember me,
They are abhorred in self-worth,
All that matters much to me.