Maybe it is your glistening fangs or perhaps the knife you hide behind your back, the all too familiar scene where you have no hesitation in using them to destroy, to poison whatever crosses your path. Your bitterness has always left a mark on me and I wonder why I still cower. Was such intimidation and fear not temporary, why do I not let my rage out?
Often, I am left feeling on edge, as though such events were never meant to be temporary. As though I would always be cursed, ridiculed, blamed.Though I live and spread myself in a multitude of contexts, of situations and faces, I need my inner peace and you are forever the trigger of my despair.
I put on my smile in the morning, slide behind the guise of confidence and distract myself with the chase. I swallow the angry lumps at the back of my throat so I don’t spew poison back at you and nurse my wounds until I am back to new. The bitterness, the wrath consumes me and I am tired of all that is bleak. Here’s to being good to me.
I am no good with you and that will last longer than the scars ever will.