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Keep Your Sins

 


Keep your sins to yourself—
Not your "Father" or "Mother" to cleanse,
Not for me to swallow in silence,
Your guilt is not my recompense.

Don’t drag me through your self-made hell,
Then act like you turned out so swell.
Watch your filth, then touch with ease,
And still pretend you’re pure as peace?

Should I carve it on my skin?
"Do. Not. Touch. Me."—would that sink in?
Or will you still play dumb and blind,
Like respect is too hard to find?

If you wrong me, I’ll return the song,
Sing it loud where it hurts the most.
Tell your mother, warn your child—
Let them know of your hollow ghost.

So go, pray at temples, beg for grace,
But I am a storm—you'll know your place.

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