To Assume Too Much
by: Funeral of Hearts

Note: Silly girl, you stained your own hands with his blood and still ask questions?

From your words sprout anger and shame,
Like fire to the soul, emotions are flames.
You ask a dozen questions like you're confused in this.
But we all know for sure that the blame is all yours.
With the dagger blade in stainless steel dragging down his spine,
Crimson intension to rust the wound.
Settle down girl and get back in line,
No need to spit your truth when all it does is hurt the cause.