Blood between lines

I’ve been missing your malevolent taunts. It’s been, darling, a long time.
The way you would say always nasty things when often my words rhymed.
You would make fun of it when you’re with your friends.
It would break me down, but I smile; the cycle never ends.
Then I would burn my poems, and I would gash my wrists,
but that wouldn’t fix your wit, all you cared about was your shit.
So, I thought I would gather mine and transform into a butterfly
so you could see.

But you would never see.

I couldn’t run from your narcissism. I didn’t really know any place.
Maybe I loved the way it hurt, and it made me hate my face.
Then I would crush my heart, and strip naked till my bones.
I would blow, I would fuck, I would try to suck your stones.
You loved the violent sex, but you would say I am the worst.
I wouldn’t trust you an inch… but that word.
So, I thought I would stay, because that would make you bleed
so you could see.

But you would never see.

I’ve been meeting hundred people a day. I’m being interviewed.
I’ve never counted a thousand, but oh boy this crowd is huge.
If you were here right now, you would’ve slapped me for my shaking hand,
but this is my first autograph, you would never understand.
You hated my poetry, so I wrote about you in every page.
It’s scratched with hurt and rape and shame. It’s crying in rage.
So, I thought I must send you a note with this first printed copy
so you could read.

but you’ll never read,
because you’re a motherfucking coward.

– WeHeartIt.com