You say it over,it's past.
OK fine but you will breathe your last.
I pick up a blade and think about all the times we shared.
I was a fool to even think you cared.
I looked at the blade it will cut without a doubt.
I hold it to your throat without even a pout.
There's no sadness in my eyes no only rage.
Don't worry I'm not upset I'm just ready to turn the page.
Just thinking about how you betrayed me makes me want to feel your blood between my fingers.
Cause the hurt you have caused me still kind of lingers.
Your eyes flutter open sorrow finally fills your expression.
I say it's too late cause you already caused my depression.
I slice the blade across your throat and the blood begins to spurt.
And it's not like me to be curt.
But the pain you caused me doesn't even fall under the word hurt.
