childs play

Anguish anguish,
tears run dry.
slowly dying, no point in trying
i just want to be alone.

there must be something wrong with me
some sort of technicality,
or maybe something more.

im a childs toy thats slowly breaking,
making every excuse not to play today..
and when im all used up.. ill be alone.

having stockhome syndrome ,
wanting to stay with the same sadistic
fuck who gave me the title "toy"
in the first place..

your curly red hair,
your blue eyes,
your voice that still echoes in my ears
"hey baby, want to play?"