Hunt

I wonder what makes people think I'm a doormat.
Is it my way of holding my tongue and not saying what needs to be said?
Or is it my way of shrinking back and letting s**t happen?
Well, I'm getting sick of it.
Sick of everyone trying to use me.
Sick of everyone trying to "be my friend".
If you do not like me,
That is not my damn problem.
But if you're going to mess with me,
Ahaha, you better beware.
One can only push me so far,
So far that I break.
And when I break,
Lord have mercy on your souls.
You will all fear for your lives.
You will all see just how I can be.
Keep tugging at my puppet strings,
They're going to snap,
And I'm going to be free.
Free enough to the breaking point.
And that breaking point,
All hell will break loose.
To those who I deeply care about,
You have no fear.
To those who have fucked me over,
To those who keep on doing so,
Well, let me just tell you...
Your fate will not be pretty.
Once I get my hands on you,
My grip will be so tight,
You wish you never bothered me.
I'm on a hunt,
Like a dog sniffing out a squirrel.
This hunt,
Will not end,
Until someone pays for what they've done.