I've paid a criminal
called time,
to kill every memory
about myself, in my mind.
I've called for arrows
with poisoned tips,
to dissolve the scars
I've left on my wrists.
To forget about myself
is what I wish for.
I'm looking for a hitman
to destroy this meaningless self
that brought me
only despise.
So He Is Weak.
I'm only dragging
a package of unwanted gifts.
A parasite
that pretends to have self-consciousness
when he's only a pale shade within my inner mist.
He speaks of rivalry
but I see it more as a stupid acceptance.
And yet, he caught roots
and the guilt for this
comes from me.
So I'm weak.
He might be the hitman
that will destroy what's left from ME.