The Stain.

This is the stain that never comes out of your shirt.    
The stain you get from sleeping with a blade,    
You can tell, so can I, I can feel the blood spurt.    
The stain that makes you squeeze tight, your eyes...    
Because secretly you're fighting goodbyes.    
   
In the end,    
life makes me sick.    
So I'll take it away,    
with my best magic trick.    
   
I'll run to the bathroom, pistol in hand.    
Try and stop me, I dare you, and this is my last.    
Try and stop me, I dare you, 'cause I'm running damn fast.    
   
I blow my brains out on this wall,    
what a pretty new color,    
the nicest fresh stain.    
You crawl toward my corpse,    
it's me that's to blame.    
   
We're all a little twisted, but it feels like I win.    
See, I'm the one with a broken brain, and a Chelsea grin.    
You can have the gun, I pulled the trigger.    
You can feel my blood, dream of the stain that'll deliver.    
   
Try like you might, to kill yourself too.    
Trust me, little one, you haven't a clue.    
Pull the trigger, light the fuse.    
To have your life end, I see the universe refuse.    
I love you divine, I protect you without fail.    
That was the last bullet, this was it's tale.    
   
Me, saving you, pistol in my mouth.   
Me, no second thoughts, and I don't have a doubt.    
You mean more to me, than living and it's will.    
I hope you know I have tasted life's dark buzzing thrill.    
You were my life, you were my all.    
It only makes sense for you to be my downfall.    
   
My only regret was the tear in your eye.    
That stained my heart, one last time.    
Though I do not regret not saying goodbye....    
I hope you don't hate me, it only gets better, like an old wine.    
I felt, in the room, your devastation.    
So I closed my eyes for my sweet isolation.