Contempt and disgust, the feelings I hold towards most.

Watching your every move, judging you like the creator himself, indifferent about the feelings I host.

Rooting for the bad guy was the norm, hoping to see the fluffy ending ripped up and destroyed, like a heart being torn from one's chest.

I don't know how I got here, I didn't bother marking the path, but now I'm too far gone, there's no going back.

I try to be positive, I look for the light, as a way to illuminate these dark feelings I fight.

The blame is to be placed on no one but me; I've only had good experiences with my family.

To be a cynic doesn't mean I'm always upset, but quite the opposite; my reasons for joy just might not make sense to you yet.

To be a cynic means to root for realistic endings to movies, because this world and its inhabitants can be sh!t; just like the people who yell, "IT'S LIT!"

It's not like any of these feelings are family traits, it's upon no one to blame for this hate

Maybe I've tried to build a shell, excluding myself from the world I hate so well.

Looking at the love of my life, my muse, makes me want to change my ways, to douse this ever-burning fuse.

Seeing all the love she possesses and holds, makes me wish I wasn't so cold.