When he looks at me like that it's torture
It's that kind of look like you can never be with me
Torture
It's my own personal hell
I'm left there suffering
He loves it when I'm hurt
It amuses that sick *******
He loved me once and dealt with this too
But not as bad
This is torture
Please end my suffering
End his sick happiness
Torture

Your face more blurred
Than the paint
          Smudged
On my palette

My colours reflect
          Work
And patience
Yours reflect
           Pain
                And
                    Torture.

The same pain
Inflicted on you
By the world
Inflicted on me
By your hands
           More intoxicated
Than your breath.

Am I dead, or am I alive,
Do I exist, or am I a dream,
Inside someone’s head for just a while

Where do I go, where do I flee,
I do not know, I do not feel

No answers given, only questions,
And through the unbearable longing this pain tortures

As much as you may dwell on the past,
and as much as you may hold onto regrets,
there is no going backwards,
not even by a single step,

so we move forward,
past the torment,
past the pain that lingers incessantly,
into the future history of now,

“Hello,
how have you been,
what more do you want from me,
I’ve already given you my everything,

what more do you want from yourself,
are you satisfied with where you’re at in your life,
I know it’s crazy how we can’t take back a moment,
can’t reverse the hurt can’t make any wrongs right,

and dwelling too much will make a sane man crazy,
so try to remind yourself to find yourself always in the present,
and let’s make the best memories we’ve ever had tonight,
then forget them all so we don’t recollect in regret,

because as much as you may dwell on the past,
and as much as you may hold onto regrets,
there is no going backwards,
not even by a single step…

∆ LaLux ∆