Is it strange to have made something that hates you?

Lest we forget this negation
Set to separate
Sell me all your pain
All your negligence
I'll be what you thought would never eventuate
I'll show you secondary situations
To swallow declarations or to be dispersed

When it's time to be face to face with anguish
You'll be tied to the vices of irony's retention
Spending every investment addressing deflections
These lethal injections for questions
Reflecting on nothing
Accepting the worst
Make it worse

Seldom ever great
Still they celebrate as I'm roaming around with my ear to the ground and a head full of shit
Yet I still hear the sounds of the hounds that surround me
They gnashed as I bled for some reasons I'd kill to believe in
I've sealed my good feelings away to perform my self-misuse for applauses pausing truce
I don't want to oblige
I don't want to comply to a life that's been left with you

We could be heavenly
But would it change things deemed obscene and irreverent?
Someone calls
Screened, unclean, and a weathering appetence
Seems I've leaned to disease in my heaving heart (what if I'm cold? What if I'm vacant?)
What if I've seen this depletion before the start? (What if I've known? What if it's blatant?)
Would I beseech you or plea to be someone else? (Would it be cordial or far from complacent?)
Could we reprieve this without all of the pestilence? (I could be wrong but I've seen this before)
What if I just want to watch you fall?