A pepper.

Hatred is a pepper,

but I don’t hate her,

so I hold it in front of her face.

I don’t hate her.

I can’t hate her

when she made me numb.

Emotions drained,

eyes closed,

stabbed, in pain,

can’t say I wasn’t warned.

but dang, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.

Numb, numb, numb,

like I’m losing too much blood,

too much emotion,

too much negative energy

that I’ve been wasting on

writing your name in vain,

because my emotions used to be strong,

they used to be visible in everything I did.

what did you do,

that took me from that idiot kid-

to this insensitive, shallow version of you?

I cry because it doesn’t hurt,

say ‘ow’ because it doesn’t hurt.

I cannot feel.

I cannot change from this,

because I changed to this,

a one-way ticket

I’d do anything to go back,

but how do you live when you died?

Walking on a race track,

without dodging the cars.

Someday you’ll get used to the impact,

it’s training your body to take the scars.

Pain is a lemon when your mouth burns,

so down your hatred when it turns to pain.

Bite your tongue till it tastes plain,

remember that lemon’s okay, it always tastes the same.

Give it to your opposers.

Pain is a lemon,

but hatred is a pepper,

and I feed it to myself.

I can’t give it to you,

I’m not that insane,

if I did, I’d be shoving my pain onto your shelf,

and I can take the pepper because I already have the pain.