This Time Around

You've killed me once,

kissed my cheek and burst into flames.

I've grown since then.

I'm not falling for your sick games,

I know where they end.

You covered in tears, of joy or fear?

While I end up in the brunt of your finger.

Point away, I'm always the harbinger

of your lost looks and desolation.

It doesn't matter to me, no.

You don't matter to me, no.

I've grown, crept my way up- far from the gutter now.

All these fences may rot but I'll feed off the mold.

You want me to keep coming back to you,

and to watch me cry and try to move on.

No, I am not letting you inside

this time around.