She's Not My Buisness

She came in one morning,
Purple and black thuds, red gashes on innocence,
As quiet as a mouse,
Contrasting to the night.

But what buisness of mine is it as long as I don't fall into the trap?

She sat down one night, cut off from the world, thought of how shed got there.
Creaks outside. She dashed to the door,
To prevent the outsisde world coming in.

But what buisness of mine is it as long as I don't fall into the trap?

She lay with him one night, scared.
His war on shaken hold. Her riot in chains.
Then, it burst open as she fell from his last correct aim. Gone.

But what buisness of mine is it as long as I don't fall into the trap?

But then unknowingly, unwillingly.
The world turned itself around
and all the beauty turned sharp.
Love turned to power and fear.
I felt as if my naivity was being used against me.
I fell.
Sirens called me.
To life? Or to death?
I wait,
I waited too long.