I hate you introduces itself to my chest, parting it like the Red Sea,
Traveling all the way down to the heart of all of my problems.
The four chambers of well kept secrets are revealed,
Spilling out the innocent first, then most vulnerable, last.
The purity of oxygenated innocence mixes with deoxygenated vulnerality,
Clotting into little globs of nothing.
Lungs collapse as they surrender to that razor sharp blade.