Weed me out. If judgement itself could speak, it would beg.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
I am an enemy factory - making them prodigiously,
Poisoning whatever touches me by dozens, by hundreds, to infinity.
Weed me out. I'm a self-abusive black hole from which no sympathy escapes.
There's a riot in my skull where sheer will is all it takes
To create the darkest place in the world and disappear in it.
I am an enemy factory - making them prodigiously,
Poisoning whatever touches me by dozens, by hundreds, to infinity.
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