There you go again
An IV dripping gasoline into my veins.
Slice me open
And strike a match
Watch the colors sear under my skin.
You've got the power, darling,
But as you use it you reject it.
Not your fault,
Not your problem,
And my fire burned you,
**** your thumb where you ignited me
And left a little blister.
I char
Curling like a paper on embers,
So hot it doesn't even flame,
Just blackens and powders to dust within seconds,
And oh, I hate you,
I really do.
Hate you for telling me I've burned you,
With tears in your eyes,
As my blood scalds my heart into a gallop
And I gasp for air.
I hate that either way it's me who's attacked.
Strapped down, little white ties at my wrists and ankles,
Needles in my arms,
Knife in your hand,
It's my fault I bleed.
Struck against my forehead, it's my fault the match flares
And my eyes go from flat ash to blazing embers.
No matter what happens,
It is my doing,
And as I burn, love,
I torch my hatred,
And scorch my compassion.