I want to wound you so bad,
And I am at a loss
If it’s because you’ve wounded me
Or if it’s to see how much you care.
But you’re already bleeding out—
A walking cadaver, soulless,
Wandering a void of self-pity,
Waiting to breathe your last.
The scars so deep have hardened
Only for you to cut them anew;
And who would I be
To add to your suffering?
Lying awake, these restless nights
Are spent sharing your torment,
Because despite the solitude that plagues you
Not for a second do you suffer alone.