Four years, and eight
us three separate.
By strength of hand
I cannot stand
Against the two,
Not even only one of you.
I stopped my tears
And hid my fears
Pretended that I was okay
And always laughed the day away.
No words could hit my happy heart
Not even your words filled with cruel art
Or so you thought
But every word made a blot
A drop of ink upon my soul
An innocence lost? No. You stole
All that was trusting inside me
And still you laugh with mocking glee!
Venom spilled upon my longing mind
Made wounds to which you still are blind,
And though I peel my loathsome skin
I will never ever win.