The weight of your hands
Stopped the blood in its tracks
It's not like you
To ***** your hands whilst you sin
Usually you light a flame and watch it grow
A shoulder bump in a corridor
The crowd gathers around like weak moths
They're the ones whose tongues I am familiar with
It's their imprints on my stomach
You just glare and gloat
I watch your eyes
A flickering cinema of emotions
Remorse
                 Sympathy
     Anger
                                Frustration
The questions push against the bile in my throat
You don't know what hell you've put me through
By showing me this side of you