i refuse to be your ball and chain
i refuse to be the thorn in your side
i refuse to be your excess baggage
i am not the one
who made you this way
stiff of bitter and coldness
burning with hatred
and oozing of destructive words
like the blood that is
leaving my wounds
there is no such thing as split
only take with you
no such thing as worry
only neglect
the world affected you
what happened to the one
whose words were
as kind as a mother bird
feeding her baby
as gentle as the music
that spreads around my soul
i am not the one
who made you this way
it is the guilt
that is caressing your pulse
and grazing your veins
it is the abandonment
that makes you mad
mad in your head and your mind
and your pride and your reality
the reality that
pierces through your gut
like an ax through a tree
it ruins you
you are empty
you are nothing
you feel dead
you've checked out of your misery
you have pushed up your daisies
you are resting
in your coffin of
suppressed weakness
you are a dead flower
colorless and fractured
you are a disfigured butterfly
with punctured wings
i am not the one
who made you this way

am i?