Blood stained guilt

If you can’t say it to my face,
then don’t say it at all.
I know what goes on behind closed doors
you’re waiting for the fall.

Keep waiting, keep watching,
let the seasons spin and pass.
The memories I hold
fall like fire on broken glass.

Don’t think I’ll shrink or wither
because your words cut deep.
I learned a lonely strength so young
And trying makes you weak.

You cannot break what isn’t whole,
or wound what’s already bled.
Your bruises and your blood-stained guilt
mean nothing to the dead.