What do you see when my blood
leaks on the floor as your words
puncture my lips as blood weeps.

But you don't you just linger in laughter,
covering the wounds that you hide inside.
But you play the part of stronger thought.  

I am a window that you have thrown so
many bricks through till  have shattered
under your fists and lingering words.

You don't reflect on what you graduated
from victim to bearer of misfortune.
I am your angered release, tears falling on fists.

Running like a sprinter that is static never
moving further than what your lingering
palms around my throat hold and silence.

Till that moment that I think is this the season
of frozen torment, where I seem to be lingering
in that fist repeated on my wishful face.

I thought I was weak, not worth the lingering
eyes of those around me. do you no the last
thoughts of suicide. **"Why me, Why me.