You were just there at the wrong time in life. Maybe you were not prone; you didn't have immunity to your vicious poison. The harm has been done, the mirror has been shattered. Can you picture me picking up every piece of glass, broken skin, blood flowing, tears held. I am strong, like a woman holding everything back, letting everything meander through my head in pain. An unbearable pain that I must bear, don't blame yourself blame the trouble you have created. Open wound, dry skin, callous spirit, broken heart. On my knees, you wish it was that time again, but it is not, never. Begging for an answer, pleading some justification, some response, you are useless.
I hate the fact that you cower behind your manhood. Admit your failure, your mistakes, do not hesitate to admit that you have flawed. Womanizer, abuser, bigot, sexist, please feckless.
It all happened so quickly, I grew so rapidly. From one blow to the other, and look at yourself now. Stuck in the middle, of your vicious poison, I told you so, you are not prone. No I will not continue to pick up the shattered glass. For look at your broken callous spirit, it darkens every second, it confides in your evil actions, oh you trouble maker, look at all the trouble you have caused.
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