You think you can hurt me?
You can’t.
Not with meaningless women-
In beds full of lust and empty of love.
Conversations that go nowhere as you down your umpteenth beer of the night;
I bet your dad would be proud of the alcoholic you’ve become,
You’re just like him.
You’ll probably stay in dirty sheets with dirty girls;
Making them as ugly as you made me one instigation at a time,
But I won’t be around to watch because I’ll be too busy with someone whose heart is more loving than your hands ever were.
I’ll be writing poems on his neck with my lips while you’re sacrificing the next young naive girl;
A predator pretending to be a protector.
A coward pretending to be a brave man.
Tin man never got his heart-
You’re living with a chest full of a whole lot of nothing,
But I won’t be around to care because I’ll be drawing landscapes on the back of a man who would build me one.
You can’t hurt me-
Because for every terrible thing you say he says ten great more,
And then he backs every single one of them up with his actions.
Every bone you’ve broken he’s worked tirelessly to mend;
80 plus hours a week at work and still comes home and gives me every ounce of love he’s got-
And he’s never once complained.
The only brutal words he’s ever spoken were to anyone who has ever even so much as used the wrong tone with me;
He is the protector you always swore you were but never had the balls to actually be.
You can’t hurt me;
Because it no longer matters if you believe that I was assaulted.
Or if you think I’m this or that.
Or even that your sister thinks I let my dad die.
You can’t hurt me-
Because you no longer mean a damn thing.
