What hatred can do.

You speak the words of hate that I hear all too well.

You look at me as if you were looking at her.

Causing my eyes to tear and swell.

I want to speak up.

I don't want to hear it.

Don't you understand?

You're killing me.

I can't breathe or move.

I can only concentrate on the shaking of my hands.

Don't you see?

The damage is done.

You can't fix it.

The words of hate that you speak are harsh.

Like the sound of a fired gun.

I hold my tonge.

I clutch my fist.

Each time you say something like that,

to me, to her, to anyone,

is like a stab.

A stab to my heart, my soul, my wrist.

You don't know it, but each time to talk like that.

A part of me dies.