Moving On

When life is hitting hard you never stop to think, tipping back that bottle, taking another drink. I am done with this I'm sick of being hit, it's time I'm stepping up not taking any shit. Running forward never turning to look back, getting up and moving again, no chance to unpack. Burying all these feelings, keeping all this pain thoughts of spilling all my blood, pour it from my veins.
Going through these days all alone, not a want to turn back, not a desire to go home. Is life meant to play out this way, is it fate, my heart desensitized now filled with so much hate. These thoughts these feelings I cannot even bare, this talk is useless you don't even care. Hate fills me from top to bottom, down to the bone, my emotions now cold as stone. I need some help, any kind of relieve, so much hatred for you this world cannot believe. You tell me my life is worthless, that it is all a waste, as you leave another bruise removing your hand from my bleeding face. Wait until the day this payback will consume, unforgiving death leading to your undefying doom.