Self-affliction

It's only self-affliction, that's all it is.
The deep crimson and smell of rust, a remembrance.
Abysmal scars hidden along the frame of mind.

Why put up with the pain and destruction?
Masochistic, can it be?
No, just weak and insecure.

In shadowed corners the horrible creature of lust comes out.

That's the wrong kind of attention, you know.
But it's attention all the same.
"Will you still love me in the morning?"
They never loved you in the first place!
That could never be love

Can you break the cycle and heal the gaping wounds?


*SNAP*
One little cog in the head breaks under the pressure and the pain,
Starting a dismal domino effect of realization.
It's all up to you.
Fix it..
Fix it....
Fix it!

A change of perspective.
Do you finally love yourself now?
Progression

And he just makes everything easier.
Now that's real love.