I no longer know what I want.
You're bad for me,
But yet you make me feel so good
You hurt me but the pain is pleasurable.
You make me a masochist,
But you also make me want to end my own suffering.
Not by death, but by removing you from my life.
Breaking the memories we share.
Your words are strangling me.
Are you want I want?
Do I want to be killed by you?
Or do I want to kill the part of me that still loves you?