You

If I could draw how I feel,
I’d paint a bullseye on your forehead
And use it to pass the time
While you scream your vitriol zeal

I know you’re trying to tempt me,
but I won’t eat from the tree
Because all that fruit will bring me
is your god-damn misery

You'll realize I stand ready to catch
Whatever insults you cast at me
But I'll take your fucking stones
 and throw them fucking back

If this is what you call a life
I'll be damned if I give you my time
I lie awake yielding in my bed
Curse your birth to pass the time

Take your goddamn misery
and let it be your life
I hope it’ll keep you warm at night
Then you can die, choked by your spite