I don’t want to fight
Or be at war
But you
You drew you sword
Ready to charge
Contempt in your eyes
You rather us shed blood
Just to protect you pathetic lies
And there I stand
Pen in hand
Fueled by anger
Slowing pulling me under
Hate building in my heart
Eye swollen
Because of the inability to cry
You’ll never know how I feel
Unless I put them between the lines
Ive alway hid how I feel
But even faced by your steel
I still
Rather write my truths
Pass them on
Then directly expose my secrets to you
Hypocritical
Blamed you
Like I’ve done no wrong
I could at least commit them to paper
But you chosen to slash
And split my skin
Then expose what you’ve kept within
And even if I die
What I’ve wrote will always be found in between the lines
But your sword will eventually rust and crumble to dust