It's Not Me

My words, you pick off one by one,

A massacre

Led by hatred. 

I sit here, putting forth effort. 

Each letter, written in blood and sweat.

Filling up the pages. 

Burned to ashes.

By an open fire of disappointment. 

Look through the glass, 

Not of my eyes,

But the transparency of my skin. 

I can't dare think of why,

Only of what I should've done better.

But you, 

Have no right to disgrace me.

When your sins burn through you 

Like the fiery pits of Hell. 

Don't you dare 

Scream my name,

As your drowning, 

Because while I was choking on the words you shoved down my throat, 

The sticks you beat me with,

The stones you threw at me.

You were just pulling me down. 

I didn't know.

But now,

You're the one being pulled down,

By your own current of despair 

My words will be heard.

You will hear me booming through your ears. 

The last thing you hear, 

Before you drown in utter guilt.