What doesn’t **** you makes you stronger
I’ve heard that said far to many times
But growing up in a house on fire
That doesn’t make you stronger
That leaves you with
third degree emotional burns
That manifest into unbridled chaos
I mean I can’t even light the stove top
I mean I can’t even taste cheep beer
Or smell cheep wine
Without the feeling of your fist
Colliding with my cheek bone
Without the feeling of purple bruises
Burning across my cheeks
You where the reason the house was lit on fire
Don’t try to tell me I’m stronger