words kill

the sharpness of your words tore my skin apart

cell by cell i became numb to your insults

from my limbs, red streams of anger and frustration flowed out of me

but you never knew

i just patched myself up with “i’m fines” and tears

i sat there trying to shield myself from your words, but i couldn’t

i was too weak to protect myself

no one was brave enough to block your blows

you took pride in your comments,

those awful blades you thought made you cool

i’m sorry but when was killing me your personal mission?

when did you decide that popularity and marksmanship outweighed kindness?

when did you decide that my life was worthless?

when did i let you dictate how i should treat myself?

i picked myself apart

like a flower, i repeated:

“he loves me, he loves me not”

my soul has become a shrine to you

but why are you the sun?

when all you do is try to bring me down every chance you get

your poison tastes sweeter than your words,

but which one is more lethal?