Bad Becoming Worse

"Hurry up! Hurry up! Witness the greatest show ever sold.
We're gona watch this man make his own head explode!
Let's not forget his assistant, the amazing Glock 4 fifth!
Hold your eyes, quick, cause this is something you don't want to miss!"

I'm not stressed out. I'm way beyond stress.
Stress is what I felt, before discovering this mess.
My life is pain redefined, a tornado in your mind;
the confusion is growing, and we're running out of time.
I have no home. I breathe deceit.
Oh shit, here I come. Better hide your watch, wallet, and keys.
I'm not trying to be mean, I'm just trying to be me me. While trying to kill what is essentially me, so what does that say about me?
Fatal infatuations, death is a dream refusing to come true.
I want the worst for myself. Just imagine what I want for you!
Waiting for divine intervention, just to give my heart rest.
God is failing me. Glad I'm not holding my breath.
My dreams torture me, replaying all that I've done.
Each memory agonizing. My trigger finger itches on life's gun.
I have stepped to the edge, 'bout a half a mile back.
Hatred provides me the power, to destroy everything in my path.
This is not a sickness, or a defect of the brain.
This is war I'm waging, with nothing to gain.
There's no value to my life. so why can't I give up?
How can I spell it out any better than,
I just don't give a fuck!!!!!!!!
There's no doubt in my mind, that this is my hell.
Burning infections, wounds begin to swell.
Devastation keeps my jaw clenched; lack of words keeps my lips pursed,
This is an up-to-the-minuet description, of bad becoming worse.