“Don’t love” she said,
As she laid there swallowed by the blackness upon her bed.
Soaked in mascara and wreckage from three nights before-
Watching the days roll from behind closed doors..

“Trust no one” she began to explain
Over and over she drilled this into my brain,
She was the type to quickly point blame
Then turn to drugs and men in her cycle of shame-

I know Shame.
She and I aren’t too far from the same.
She’s frightened to be alone
And I’m frightened to be what she became-
Frightened our blood line determines our fate