F.Y.D.S.

Days turn to reflection
Tomorrow I’ll discard
Everything of worth is left to the past
I drift further from labors of self worth
Your words don’t move me
I question the lack of blood from your mouth
I’ve bled for less
These honest moments I lament
There’s nothing to gain from this exchange
I’ve bled for less
You fucking fraud
You’ll be buried underneath my contempt
Fuck you die slow
I would die for far less
Descend beneath me
I will not follow