Words slice and they dice,
Cutting through like a knife.
The skin that they scorn,
Feel the internal burn,
Never knowing what right, what wrong or what price.
The smooth art of delusion.
Masking the mirror held up to the other,
The one with the fear who performs insincere acts of friendship, love and nature,
Masking all a horrible feature.
What motive? What issue?
Could cause all of my tissue to feel that blade,
So sharp and so played.
Susceptible I guess,
If kindness is a weakness,
But I hurt not just for self, unguided and careless,
But for the one who pulls off the band-aid as though it were useless.
For what could heal infection, aid a deep wound,
You would rather tare off and tare down with you.
Is side by side better within your bitter depths?
Could of raised you up higher,
But you dragged me down instead.
I may be bleeding openly,
You may even see the pain you cause.
But I will heal,
Will be better.
My dear I hope that at least gives you pause.
For as I move on exposed in light,
You remain a shadow of your darkened plight.
Peace, Smiles and Superpowers!