I never was quiet when i tiptoed
past your pivotal emotions
and maybe
maybe it wasn't always "on accident" I "mis-stepped"
maybe
maybe I did use my silver tongue like a sword
to willfully slice you to ribbons
Maybe i posted poetry that sentenced you to
less than ignorant bliss
of your own actions and their effects
Fault me.
Fault me because I've still never lied to you.
Fault me because even when i tiptoed around the truth  
I was kicking you in the face, in the chest, and in the senseless ego,
In all the comfort that you'd expected me to allow you when you ripped mine from my hungry hands
and i kicked you with my words, some might say while you were down
But my words were the truth.  
And the truth hurts.