It's cool that you hate me
My tears won't berate yee.
But I'm tired of being silent,
White walls around me.
Every single time I breathe
I lose a part of me,
I work I shed blood on.
If you truly aim to kill me,
You're doing a bang up job.
I'm fire and I'm being put out.
I can't breathe,
I can't express myself.
But that's the thing about fire:
It builds.
And when the volcano erupts,
Your light will be burned.
My death is your end.