I am sensitive,
More delicate than
a Bleeding Heart.

Ice cold criticism
is my demise.
I resort to
witty remarks before
lashing out as
my last defense.

Words are bullets,
which stay inside
hidden internal wounds
never completely healed,
etching traumatic nightmares
into my mind.

Beneath each lie,
you bury my
flesh and being.
Each word game
shatters my bones.
Ruthless rumors ruin
my inadequate self-confidence.

You murderously drew
my blood, and
showed the world,
smiling maniacally and
losing it all.

Darkness and hatred
drove you mad,
drowning your life
in pitiful vain.

Thus, you make
the Evil Witch’s
goal your life
and aim to
kill Snow White.

You mocked my
soul once filled
with dreams that
you’ve torn apart,
and you burned
my paper-thin pride.

I watched indifferently,
silently screaming through
the hell you
put me through.

I’ve always looked
for the light,
but I’m afraid
you have forgotten
a time before
pride and anger
reigned your life.

Long ago, we
were best friends.
I knew all
your secrets and
you knew mine.

I told you
Everything: All my
Greatest strengths and weakness
Biggest fears and hopes.
I trusted you,
saving my last
breath to say:
Et tu, Brute?