A Piece of Me

It was a night, not stormy
though rather drizzly.
There's a lot on my mind recently.
So I told you. This and that.
As usual, sarcasm and sharpness are
already my second and third languages. Infused.
Confession.
I did want provocation. Though a little bit more
was what I got. From you.
At first with guilt I was overwhelmed
Not the first time my words too sharp
New wounds create
I'm sorry if you are outraged
There must be a lot on your mind, too
I'm sorry if you are wounded
Though when the knife is pulled back
the wound will still remain
I'm sorry if you do not wish to see my face
for the rest of eternity
Our world is small, our paths will cross again it is bound
I'm sorry if you think I'm not
Perhaps that's the truth
I only tell the truth
with no sugar-coating
although with a little bit
Of hot spices
I only wish to tell you
that while I sharpen my knife
I blunt my senses
So when a matching sharpness comes
A wound it will create
A pain it won't inflict
So when tomorrow comes
I won't have to force it to
A smile, a nod
an acknowledgment of you
As if there wasn't anything wrong
Because there wasn't, really
So, will you?