I bled, yet I still grasped the flame
written by: Jasmin Labatete
You sing to me, they say.
I nod—yet all I hear is a scream.
You dance with me, they claim.
I agree—yet your grip burns like a flame.
You insisted I touch you,
And I did—because my love was louder than pain.
So I watched myself burn,
For in the fire, I felt I was yearning.
I sensed the affliction in my core,
But chose ignorance—craving only to give more.
We looked happy in the crowd’s eyes,
A perfect image where my scars could hide.
I smiled and laughed, a mask well-worn,
Yet inside, I was shattered—completely torn.
Yes, I bled from the sharpness of your tongue.
But the wound dried fast as soon as you knelt down.
You seek forgiveness, for anger takes your mind.
So I buried the blame and left all the blood behind.
The cycle spins, with hope engraved in my chest
For the song to be a ballad, and the flame to be an art.
I prayed for the chaos to kindly settle in rest
To witness your gaze to hold a gentler heart.
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