Building You A Hearse

I don’t speak in threats, but I will give you words of warning –

Be careful who you break, you might get cut on the shards.

There are people in this city who found my youth charming,

Then tried to burn my backbone until it was charred.

I don’t break like a tree branch, I don’t bend with the winds.

My heart is made of glass, and every piece of me stings.

These people crushed my youth like it was a fatal sin,

And they claimed it was a lesson in clipping rosy wings.

But I don’t have any tolerance for cruelty and violence.

When they broke my last bone, they agreed to get cursed.

As you walk these busy streets, enjoying your silence,

Know that somewhere in the suburbs I am building you a hearse.

-Jackie