I'm still angry
I shouldn't be but belated feelings bemuse me
And now alliteration alters my speech
Like an infection I've held intact that intimacy
But angry still

Love?
Love tainted me.
Trust tortured me.
Like a dogs bone you toyed with my talent
Took it for granted and spit it out in dirt
So take it back
Because these hands will

never

Never make you come again for i have come to a conclusion
**** your trust
And **** your dishonesty
*** saturated saturdays cease to supliment me
So too do the sudden situations of unneeded:

"sorry"

So now I stare
Stare at the hands that started the solace
And wonder if they'll ever be clean
Forse può aiutare.