It's raining again
And the lake fills up
It's a pond of clouds
Looking out at the waves
Looking down at the reflection
Of your miserable perfection
It's raining again
And my heart fills up
Water rips its sides
As if a paper cup
Your face tells me
It isn't my fault
Not worthy of your affection
Nor your miserable perfection
The rain has stopped
But my insides still flood
The sight of your sickly grin
Stings me far within
I blindly still suffer
Of opportunistic infection
And your miserable perfection