How would I be mad at you
I was the one who bragged and boasted and spitted
Spilt my bullshit all over
I tainted your face
Foul was my mouth

I loathed my tongue
I hated my teeth
The strong white composition of enamel the least thing I needed
I wished my enamel would become my bones
As breakable
As fragile
As useless
Would then I depend on it no longer
I have no credit

I am a cripple
I am a dumb

I only wanted to trim my thoughts
Crimson were my lips
Crimson was my blood
Nothing at all is rosary
To be appre’d in prayers or hymns