Life gives you lemons,
Make lemonade.
Cut the chunks of ice
with the knife that’s tasted your blood.
Squeeze the lemons into the cuts littered on your arm,
Grit your teeth and savor the burn.
Collect all the sugar from your syrupy lies,
And all the times you’ve deceived.
Stir it together with the long list of things
That are wrong with you.
So now whenever I drink cold lemonade,
You’re the first thing I think of.