I sat once petrified on the class room floor when I was seven.
The eggs they rolled around till they rolled off and cracked.
The baby bird screeched and died.
Then I understood life.
I watched my hair grow.
I hate all of my vegetables.
Now my breathe reeks of you
and your teenage love.
I was once the lion.
Now I am only the den.
The blood is on your hands.
Dried crimson flakes.
I will never understand why it had to be you.
