You stab me with the
Dagger of betrayal,
And expect me to stand
With my back towards the pain,
Holding tears in my hand.

I don't understand

Never will I allow it.
That's not how this goes.
I'll let my tears glide to the
Same place my shed blood
Seems to flow.

And then maybe you'll see.
Yes, maybe you'll learn
To not throw fire and flames
And still question my burns.

Our burns, if you think.
That's if, you're thinking
Forever.
Could you withstand such burns
In all kinds of weather?

With temperatures dipping, then
Rising sky high.
Would you still show the same care
As I do when I cry?

No, you would not.
You can't withstand such things.
If you were me, you'd complain
That it stings.

That it stings, that it burns.
That you bruise to the touch.
If you were me, you'd feel
You're never enough.