The 2 A.M Writer

One Way Scale

My aggression the fuel to my bloodshot

My overdose a close dream

I wanted a vial of my own spit

So I drained my cyst and filled it back up with black

You\'re a needle in my appendix

I\'m a drug in your addict arm

Yes, you\'re armed all right

You\'ve got the bullet to my suicide

I wanted to see god, and you showed me a pit

I wanted to see nothing, and you blinded with a light

I wanted apathy, and you gave me the pills

I wanted silence, you gave me a reason.

I just wanted it then.

But you shed your skin now.

Your dead rotten skin.

When I gave you pound and ounce.

Stop your fucking spell.