Tripped down in a shutter when I met you, now stuck in a mindgame, in a psychopath's hold I try to remain sane

Your words cleaves me, your hands strokes me, things I once fell for now decieves me and chokes me

You terrorizing me, investigating me, furiously obscene, using my body creating your own crime scene, blue fingerprints all over, but for others to over see

I hear your whispers at all time, like a schizofrenic I become, when your violent thoughts interact with mine
Maybe there is illness in my state of mind, but before you, I sure was fine

Playing your role posessed with mad hate, an addiction, for me it's only affliction, what is fake, what is fiction

Repeatingly you pushing me over the cliff side, just to leave me hanging, begging for your hand, so that you can, as you always do flip side

Trying to play along to survive this mental manuskript, but I'm outstripped and you just atone like there has been no conflict