When I Hate Myself More Than You
When I hate myself more than you
Each and every time you paint me blue
On the inside it's blacker and darker
Just because I hate myself more than you.
You yell and you hate, you whisper and you sneer, no matter what you do though, I'll still hate myself infinitely worse than you hate me. It's a simple formula if you believe in such things. Every time you whisper another sentence proving true what I already know, I hate myself a little bit more each day. Here's a math formula for you. If a equals the hate you give and b equals the hate I receive, then what is the formula?
a plus infinity equals b.
Have I ever said I fucking hate math? It seemed appropriate to butt that in to this equation.
Oh, but, whatever of course. Why should you even care? You've gotten what you want out of this equation. You've gotten the satisfaction. Thank you for taking the last little piece of myself. Thank you for taking the only thing I had left.
Now, you can say that you took away everything from me. And that hurts.
Kick me while I'm down over and over until I'm nothing but the dirt.
When I die you can at least say that my atoms are in the dirt and in the air. Finally I'll be where I deserve.
In the ground with my friends.