I have too many shits to give already
I donβt intend to give no more
Gone is the time when every little critique
Pricked me right to the core
I burn in fumes for a second
It pinches as it should
Yet I donβt let myself succumb to it
I save my fuel for the good
I remember the time Iβd waste
Over guilts, mind at war
I rather be calm than impulsive
I know itβs not worth anymore
Iβm trying to overlook harsh words
When it haunts back too loud
I put them in a poem
Someday Iβd read out aloud
I know thereβs no ill intention
But words are powerful my friend
They cut through and heal
They're everything you do or donβt intend