I can still feel the whispers of past bruises on my skin,
still hear your horrid screaming in my ear ringing,
still flinch whenever people come too near,
whether they be friends or family;
All because of one's silly games.

I still get paranoid as I speak my thoughts,
still get anxious when confessing feelings,
still refuse to put both feet in trust,
to anyone, even myself;
All because of one's silly lies.

I still bend to the painful expressions of others,
still throw myself to the sharks for the better,
still use myself as a shield for the undeserving,
for they're more deserving than I;
All because of one's silly traps.

Mistakes made thrice,
a curse from life,
giving me Lemon after sour lemon.
Perhaps a Clementine should come around,
tiny blessing as they are,
and give me a taste of sweetness for once.