According to you

I am not polite.

I am a gunshot in the dark

On a cloudy night.

I am a cussword

On the once tied

Lips of a parent

When you went too far.

I am the screeching

Of the tires

Of your first car.

Cause I am an accident

According to you. 

And I am a hexing

By the witches

Who at Stonehenge live.

I am the push

And the pull

Who will never give.

I am the death 

Of a kiss

Never planted on lips.

Cause I am unattractive

According to you. 

I’m a punch

And a fist

And a falling star

And a wish

And a voice

And the revolution

And the sky at night

And the sun.

Cause I can’t be these things

According to you.