She's been feeding me lies through the tube that she shoved in the back of my throat two years ago.
I am afraid of what she calls dying.
I am afraid of what she calls lying.
I am afraid of everything she's been trying the past two years of my whole life.
But Wait now,
Why is my doctor crying?
Could it be that she has found out what's wrong with me?
No it couldn't be that,
Cause then I wouldn't still be lying flat on my back
With the tube still as far in my mouth as on day one.
And as her mouth slowly opens,
Blood slowly catches her off guard.
Her words slur and are cluttered by the liquid that is now forming down the front of her dress.
I try to speak but only choke on this plastic lodged down deep in my gut.
She makes her way to my bed where,
All I remember is her black hair,
Dangling softly on my chest and I try not to stare.
But little do you care where i go,
As you rip this tube up out my throat.
Air rushes to my lungs faster than they explode.
Light fills my eyes much faster than I am blinded.
Blood spits out my mouth much faster than you could have ever reacted.
As your hands wrap loosely around my neck I try not to worry.
Because I know, that you would never hurt me.
Not with any fury.
Only with your god forsaken love.
And the hell of hate when you kill me slow.