Knuckle deep.

Oh how the mighty keep falling,

They said that it was the end of the world but it turns out that it was only the end of us. I forget things because my brain is already dead. It just doesn’t know it yet. And when you’re at the top there is only one place left to go. And even though I strapped myself in for this crazy ride, I’m still feeling dizzy from this downward spiral. I’m the victim to the fierce natural tones of a lustful negotiation. I’m struggling and for a lack of a better word, I’m slaving over this courtship to insure I’m worth the effort.

Your body is a gun and my finger is on the trigger.

But you say you love me and only me. But I bet you say that to all the guys who were knuckle deep in love with you. Just throw all your empty promises in a well and make a wish upon all the times you got carpet burns while I drown and send a collie to get help. You say you’re different from the last but you’re just the same as the first.

I’ve made some pretty bad mistakes, but you were the prettiest one. And you’re the type of mistake I make over and over again but never learn from.

Self-loathing, self-desctructive, self-pity, self-indulgence. It seems as though everything always revolves around me. But those same words I use to describe you. Let my last words be I dare you. Let my trigger finger itch. Just take what you want and me down with you because few things can set me free like a gunshot to the head and the smell of you on my sheets.