You fucking consumed my heart
And reconstructed my anatomy
When I held your fucking hand
While you shot up morbidly
'We'll call this the meeting room'
'Just don't tell your mom'
You mean that closet where you fucked your veins?
Until the human in you was all gone?
But guess what?
I ended up joining you
I too was touching the fucking ceiling
I was high as fuck too
'Go ask your mom for money'
Dude we're fucking poor
But that didn't matter to you
As long as you were dead enough to fucking melt into the floor
But hey
Let me help you dig a grave
So the next time you run out of heroin
You'll be sick enough to rot and decay
I won't be there the next time you fly
Cause two grams a day should of been enough to reach the sky
I hope you like what I wrote on your fucking headstone
'There's not enough room in hell for you and I
Get used to the fire
Because you're burning in hellfire dyes'
©venomocity
M