I start spinning

Melita

I never had a chance to be soft
I was always bloody knuckles

“For what?” Her hands didn’t roam, inspect, or comb through, but her eyes wandered over the scar, not understanding, not comprehending, what felt like anything at this point. If he was fine then she probably should’ve left it there – not prying any further, not piercing herself into any more cracks and fissures. That seemed to be how she kept losing everyone. Maybe. It was difficult to tell anymore.

But then that was where they ended up; back at this broken bridge and ridge and like she had no foundation to stand on. That she had the right to be angry, furious, with the lot of them, but it was still mostly centered around Sunjata. Should she have been contemptuous and loathing towards Nate too? For always being some epitome and paragon of forgiveness? She just knew that wasn’t her. “I already talked to him.” If there was some bitterness and rancor in her tone, the youth didn’t bother hiding it. “He didn’t tell me where you were all moving to.” And that hurt, smarted, right in between the plains of her ribs. “Just that you were going to be gone.” Everything else nestled, immersed within, had found its way to pain and anguish.

and shards of glass
I wanted people to be afraid of hurting me