If I could,
I'd tell you that
your words are like knives,
each caress a lightning strike,
and sweet dulcet tones almost like electricity,
the touch you bestow upon me akin to a blade
because you never seem to care
if you drive insecurity into me
with every hammer strike of your intentions
and I won't give up,
no I won't give up,
but sometimes my body might give out
under the strain
and I want you to know that it was you
who drove me to this
and that you haunt me like a ghost
every day, even though you're still next to me
with your curved smile, embedded with shark teeth
and a malicious intent.
instead you fake innocence,
and you push the blame onto me,
and with each shove of the guilt,
you cause my arms to shake
and my knees to buckle
and my bones to crunch to sand,
and if I could,
I would tell you that this is all your fault.
i won't let you weigh me down anymore.
not, at the very least, before I die.