My words cut.
But as they bleed I realise
I bleed too,
For they were right.
Trying to tell me
Of a roaring flame,
That my hand may grace
My heart pulses weakly in shame.
Acceptance is hard,
I slept too close to a dangerous fire
Only realising my wrongs,
When the flames licked my back
Now the fire has settled
The wind has whipped up vile ash
My back hurts
I see not how I can treat my wounds and yours.
