Torture Chamber

How many new ways will you find to torture me?

Love and death always chasing you.

But for how long are you going to keep running, drowning yourself in alcohol?

I try to keep it cool,

but in the end I finish cleaning the stains of blood and wine from your sheets.

You said you are confused.

How many years of confusion?
It’s time to find your guts and stop this nonsense.

Self-sabotaging your life from beginning to end.

Blow the place up, make it end.

If you want to destroy yourself and us, just press the button.

I am ready to see everything burn.

You don't want to move forward, so go ahead. If destruction is what you want, then do it.

Puffy eyes from crying all night.

I know what comes next:
a phone call and, as always, the excuse of a blackout.

Oh, you don’t remember what you did?

You kissed me in front of your new chick of the night,
and after that things got pretty ugly.

But wait  that never means anything, right?

It’s me again, misunderstanding everything.

But all this push and pull has left me feeling nothing.
How surprising.

Lately, I’ve been a faithful disciple of stoicism
with everything you’ve put me through.

I’m not trying to convince you. This is not a cult.

But you’re all over the place, getting jealous of my ex
while you make out with some random girl you met at the bar.

The chick is there, complimenting me with her puppy eyes,
trying to be my friend.

Did you explain to her who I am?

Wait a second — you don’t even have the vocabulary for that.

She’s already starting to ask questions: “Are you in love with her?
Did you fuck her?”

She’s young, but she isn’t stupid.

All the witnesses in the room can feel the heaviness of the truth mixed with martini and your constant denial.

But I won’t spill the tea.

Because I am the secret weapon, the last confession of the torture chamber, and I know it.

And I also know that I live rent-free in your mind, and that there are two things you have no self-control over: alcohol and me.

Cut the bullshit.

But no, go on, continue the play if that’s what you want. You’re such a bad actor.

In the end she stayed, and I left.

Maybe she thinks she can save you with her innocence and care.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that if I stay, you’ll drown me with you.

So excuse me, but I’m going to pass.