Built to Split 

No one left to talk to 

about it. My inner voice,

the small sound. Your 

small sound that I still 

hear; please tell me that 

you never heard it at all.

That I, am the only one 

with such reality.  

Damned Fool (Me) 

You. I wish you, well. 

Though they wouldn’t 

think I mean it. I’ve always,

meant it. But, meaning doesn’t

carry far when you’re thought to be 

a demon. The worst interpretation of 

your actions; publicized for all to know. For,

all to see. To, hate you for. Though, it’s the 

indifference to my existence that burns 

the worst and I bet they’ll rejoice knowing 

there’s ever salt in these wounds.