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