Oh, I knew it\'d come to this
When I learn\'t your love was fiction
Succored on fantasy-lead bliss
Originally presented as contradiction
My heart was yours, infected black
You scorn me, lowly, under your breath
My agency, myself, I can\'t get back
Yet, I\'ve no misfortunes to confess?
The blame is \"mine\", but my hands are clean-
No one believes the one who\'s hands stained red
I find myself stuck, as you\'re still so mean
Yet, meaner are the words and thoughts you bred
You stab me where only you know it hurts
Then question \"Alas! But where\'s my comfort?\"