This Broken Killswitch

so here's the sum of our parts: an overwhelming willingness to expire and ugly hands that were built for breaking the ugly second chance that i'm taking. we'll realize that we're brilliant at dying as more bullets kiss, and more blades cushion our akward movements. so don't look at me when we all run out of room for caring, and bury hope with our useless hearts. i've started digging graves for everyone, and my hand is getting tired from writing out this killing spree. so it's reaching time. reach for home where everyone is waiting to forget you. reach forward and prop yourself up on the smiling skulls of liars. i'm reaching into my pocket, but the gun's already gone off. you want to talk about pain? let's talk about pain, motherfucker. it's something i know everything about and soon you'll understand why. please stop me before i kill again. i'm reaching in my chest, but the killswitch on my heart is broken and i've been dead for years...and then i realized the truth; we're forest fires waiting to happen, and buildings designed to collapse. i can't wait to watch you burn and fall.