You'll never know
How hard I tried
To be good and perfect
On the in-and-outside.

I choose to be this way,
This soft spoken with good intentions,
Because my flame has died out,
And does not ignite at its' own mention.

You'll never know
How many fights
My temper and flare
Have gotten my into.

How many bruises I can take the blame for,
How much skin torn like tissue paper
That's been on my body,
That the guilt for is mine and mine only.

I have learned to be
And chosen to be submissive,
As after awhile
Getting bloodied and bruised
Consistently gets a little tiring.

My bold statements
And harsh tones
Cause only pain
And pain alone.

I hope one day
You never see my fire,
Or taste the ash
From my ire.