Sick to my Core

The tears I shed
The thoughts that torment my head
All over you
You made it so very clear
I am not the one for you
Your a pathetic excuse of a person
If I had one wish
I would be serving your head on a dish
Blaming everyone else for the way you are
POINTLESS
Thats what giving my heart to you was
I am a Cleaner
With an itchy trigger finger
Dreams turned to nightmares
As time goes by
I know I will heal emotionally
However
Duct tape, pliers, and you tied to a chair
Thats what I really want to see
You are a sorry short, middle aged, overweight waste
Karma is slow in her ways
Step in my path.

and you will see how evil I can really be