Whose made life’s agenda to hurt me,
I created the world of wild cats on entry and infinite lava covered forest,
Burn your desperate tongue while you crawl in your poisonous spit.
Go ahead, put your pity step on its ground.
I created the place where I don’t feel,
Or care to speak language of politeness.
Cruel and cowardly ones,
Who touched and crossed over my carefully cherished place,
I built a country
Where no free streets are left to walk on
To accommodate kindness or forgiveness.
It isn’t made of my heartbeats,
And it’s not meant to scream justice,
Or to uselessly reveal the truth,
Sadness chased my breath away because you powered through my being.
You pleased your inner monsters, laughed hysterically, celebrated…
you sick son of a bitch
Who stood in your madness upon arriving,
Protesting to your emptiness
You stay there,
Play your angry games with your mates,
And hold onto the thrills of hurt
That use to pull my heart out.
My boat is departing to the colors of bright shores.
You didn’t earn to stay in my world.