Bad, Bad Things

I wish I could take a break,
From all which I find fake,
Run far away from this place,
To return the smile to my face.

Their harsh words cut like glass,
My evasive ignorance: not that fast.
I may seem fine and pain free,
They continue tormenting me.

Sell my soul for loss of feeling,
Sell my flesh; senses reeling.
Burn my feelings; on they drone.
The ashes form a rough-edged stone.

I'm the mouse and your the cat.
Just tiny details; This and that.
I've made up my mind.
Leave this all behind

Spit out that bad, bad seed.
It's bad for you indeed.
Like cancer sticks;
The bomb that ticks.

Sell my soul, for nothing.
Sell my flesh, for nothing.
Burn my feelings, for nothing.
All I do.

 

FOR NOTHING.