Twisting the Knife
you played your games, you had your fun, but now the joke’s on me. i’m the guilty one, you say, like the world turned upside down while you were out screwing lies into the night.
you strayed, crushed what we had, but somehow, here I am, carrying your cross. you spin stories like a drunk too far gone to care, weaving them together with the scraps of a love you tore apart.
go on, twist the knife, build your fantasy. but lies are like cigarettes, they burn down, they fade out. and truth? it sticks in your teeth, no matter how hard you try to spit it out.
keep playing the martyr, wear your guilt like a crown, but in the end, you’ll choke on your own bullshit. because in this wreck, this disaster you created, it’s your own heart you’ve left behind to rot.