I assume I should apologise
For the words wrought in red
Of fire and rage
"you hurt me" I cry
But what of the actions
That brought about the desire for death
Hatred brews deep within
Of oneself perhaps
Possibly the subject of this piece
I cannot say
To the idea maybe
That the initial time doors open
Flowers will bloom on arms
And eyes will crinkle in corners
I cannot say for sure