I often confuse anger with protection,
Bloodied wounds filled with with the same salty seas that caress my cheek,
I don't clench my fists in fury, I let them be held,
They should feel my lust for bloodshed,
But there will be no red-ribboned fate that binds us together,
There will be no eternal thread that is sewn into us by the pinkie,
There will be no person that will stay if I prolong with a heart full of restless rage and inevitable regret,
I am well versed in cruelty, though I crave the sympathy I cannot give,
I am born of the waves, fuelled by the seas,
Salt in my eyes,
Restless pleas