The Scab

You rip the scab off every wound,
You cannot help yourself,
You reap destruction where you go,
Like panic on a shelf,
Below you lies in pieces,
Every broken shard of joy,
Manipulated stories,
Of the lives with which you toy.

You play the victim card so well,
In each and every hand,
Emotions with an axe to grind,
But none are left to stand,
Against your brutal tyranny,
And lies for which we pay,
I’d shout it from the rooftops,
But I never get a say.

Your heart is black as darkest night,
Your motives oh so clear,
To be the guardian of hate,
Deception, rage and fear,
I cannot fathom why you do,
The things that bring decay,
Your love is too expensive,
I’m no longer fit to play.

So rip the scab off if you must,
Make haste to blame and cry,
Remember I won’t always fill,
Your narcissist’s supply,
You see I know the rules at last,
And time will come to sing,
I will be crowned triumphant,
When my pawn defeats your king.

© The Complicated Bunny – 27 Apr 2022