The Cross I Bear

Make me a martyr.
Mar me, scar me with your lips cracked from your experience
I would have rather not known.

Crucify me on your sheets that covered the truth.
Slide me up and down on your wooden crucifix
The splinters in my back reinforce your lies.

Stab me with a crown of thorns and leave my heart to rot.
I hang in a ruined spectacle for all to see that
You have stained my past with the color of pain.