Salt In The Wound Poem by Lubna Hazeem

How could this be any worse than it already is?
How many times have i asked myself such questions?
Some are waiting on the other side of that door
Are they expecting me? well, im not really that sure

You know that things are not always what they seem
The edge of the knife is always prettier than its rear
So they threw some at you, they threw some at me
And we ended up exactly where we were, my dear

Blinded, hurting, reaching with our hands
Fact is a substance and fact is unplanned
Nothing's ever right unless everything's true
And the choices you make end up killing you

You'd think they'd know me more than they already do
More than the so-called pleasure of the pain they produce
Oh, endless nights are the ones i'd happily be there to seek
Becausee i can't stand the days that welcome such suffering

Blinded, hurting, reaching with our hands
Love is a witness and love shall demand
Nothing's ever right and wrong has its roots
Spreading over us all like salt in our wounds

There's a huge lump in the back of my throat
The taste of loneliness has never been this cold
Though i can't remember what it is i've been told
This story i felt and someday you will surely know