This blasphemy only erupts my heart’s love,

As I pour it into every last glass,

Each drip does not come from the skies above,

But from the tear in my soft vessel’s mass.

Each drop of condensation from my eyes,

Keeps mark as stains from an unwanted life,

The words, the promises, all filled with lies,

Thus leaving behind the scars of your knife.

I am no longer a fool to this past,

Your schemes are no longer enough for me,

These strikes of weakness have become my last,

That woman is no longer who I’ll be.

Love’s deceit and games no longer have rule,

For I have stopped being that tarnished jewel.