Was I an accident?

The words sound different,
Spoken not thought;
Open and exposed.

I pull a large thorn from my heel
And feel the sweet pain
And watch the blood
Spill out into the world.

Do you love me?

Another one-
As the pain and blood
Set each other free.

Anger gushes from my wounds and pools at my feet.

How am I to blame?
I am not
And never have been
The creator of all problems.

And if you don't like me
Well it's your own !%#$ing fault
Because you made me
I am yours; like it or not.

For now my feet are cleansed in blood
Someday I will leave you all behind--
But until then, I walk barefoot in a field of thorns.

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Click to View Author Guidance

I have been trying to get up the guts to post this for a long time now, and I decided to just do it. Just know that it is really personal. And if you disagree with my colorful language or the fact that I'm posting this or even feel this way, (ahem Juliia) then tough, because it is how it is, so please don't comment on any of those things or hater-rate me because of them.

updated Jul 12 '10 by Cadence62