The range that builds up the amount of times you push me. Do you know that every time that you push me my anger gets stronger. The feeling of placing my hands around your throat. Gouging out your eyes. Your blood over my clothing giving a sweet, bloody smile. I can just feel you breathing your life your life slowly slipping away. I can see your eyes slowly turning white because you no longer have any air to breathe, you're gone. So push my buttons push me one more time and I just might snap and when I do. There will be no place to hide you will be drowned in the taste of your own blood. Go on push the silent girl lets she how she's already planed you're death. No way that you can just be let of the hook. Every word the you say is your ticket closer to death. Maybe she'll be glad to add you on her death toll. So maybe I want to quite for the day, maybe I just want to say FUCK THE WORLD. None of that should matter to you because it's not your life. So keep pushing me keep trying to get me mad none of going to save you in the end. Maybe my death toll goes up, but you're life is a small debt to pay when you push me.
