kicks..

what am i afraid of..
dreams are made of..
this...
i dismiss
no more bliss..
not even a suculant kiss..
i resist..
for the sake of resisting...
i put myself in situations ..
of complication..
with every situation..
i die a little
cry more then a little..
u playing me like a fiddel..
faddle..chitter
chatter..nothing matters..
of fact..
not feeling in tac..
tic..i feel sick..
so tired of this shit...
feels like ur playing wit my heart for kicks..