Wasted Bullet
pro ana
I consume, I destroy, give in to this I must
Until thereâs nothing left of me
You call my name, I canât resist the only thing I trust
Though I know youâll be the end of me
We all have the means, the choice is yours
So dry your fucking tears, pathetic pile of fat
There is no disease, you are the cure
You are not the victim, your own blood is on your hands
I pretend itâs not my fault, I canât seem to kill the urge
Temptationâs taken over me
Cry me an ocean, I will make you fucking drown
So sick of edible devotion
Face the consequence, 6 feet down
You had it all in your hands
But you failed to survive
You had it all in your hands
But you failed to survive
Itâs your own fault
What a fucking way to die