You [bad word] me up and bled me dry, like a wound that just won’t heal. [bad word] out of sympathy for regret that I couldn’t kill. 
So I’m breaking the line, because wasting time was not my intention. It’s so selfish and sick, and there’s nothing to fix, so I sever resentment.  
If you remember;  you relive. How many chances can you give? Who’s to say [bad word] and goes, what stays and makes you crawl? 
But I’m breaking the line, because wasting time was not my intention. It’s a [bad word] waste counting my mistakes. And If I said it, I meant it.
Swing the noose and see that it’s your neck it wrings… 
Or cut the rope that keeps you hanging. 
But it’s grown into this constant hate, knowing time will never change. The dull pain, like the ache of a broken knuckle, every time I hear your name.
I let myself feel nothing until it starts again… Turn you into nothing in the end.