I Feel A Little

You always kept a piece
Of your tenderness
Underneath your skin.
But it repeatedly seek
To ooze out of your body.
I know your sorrow,
I now fathom your arrogance;
What makes you silently
Scream underneath those skin?

You bite your hands,
You bite your lips,
But does it stop there?

That's a lovely looking flower;
But the ground it grows
Is what your heart is made of.
The ground doesn't move
Neither is your heart;
But when you do,
It brings agony
To every life form,
But they lack the tenderness
Which only you could endure,
Yet that's the price you pay
For keeping it underneath.

The nails you cut
Which grows outward
From your skin,
It grows back
Everytime you cut it back,
And sometimes you cut your skin,
It was a mistake you made,
But it hurt you a little;
So you pronounced yourself
To keep the nails forever.

It's the choice you made,
To keep the nails,
Your skin as barrier,
The ground to your heart,
And this ink
To keep it alive.