unrequited love
pierces through my chest
- a bloodied dagger
stabs my heart
and drains me dry
but somehow i survived

you have blood on your hands.

yet somehow it's my fault
for causing the perforation
simply because
you're unwilling to see,
to admit,
that i was defending
my already wounded heart
from further betrayal

remember this -

desposing the knife,
moving to far and distance places
and eventually
finding your way back
home, to me,
does not give you the right
to seek my warmth and comfort
after you've been stabbed
by someone else.