Hey Mercy

Do I give up my fingerprints in spite

trying to wash my hands of you?

You'd be happy if they were scraped raw.

Can't put myself together at all.

Every day is a struggle

trying to unlearn

the traits

you've embedded.

And you'd prefer it best

if you could chalk up my identity

to jealousy.

But you begged god for mercy,

just to find that she is me.

You'll be calling me an artist by the way I draw blood.