What did you expect of me, I’m doing my best?
Call off the wolves, rest here a while in my dusty regret. They can smell my burning flesh.
I tried to run away, yet you followed. To hound and pound me.
Haranguing my conscience till the soul was worn away. Tell me, what did you get from this?
Did it make you feel good to see me cry?
Nobody’s perfect. I was trying my best.
I scratch the words onto my skin until the blood ebbs into the past. You don’t care for such sights.
You never cared for such theatrics, or displays of emotions.
Despite the ones you’ve caused.
The blood and mess was always swept under the rug along with my feelings.
Isn’t everyone going their own way, watching the signs and fingers pointed at them.
Allow the wolves to rest, throw my heart for them to feed while I slink out the back door.
Don’t let me catch your eyes of disappointment wander with me.
They kill me every time .
You are not immune to error, and I understand your lowly human attributes.
Personne n’est parfait.
I whisper this while you sleep the sleep of fallen angels.


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