Lost

Hurt me as you can,
all the lines to cross;
I will just stay silent,
all the words to exhaust.

Saying it was a fault,
out the letters forced;
carrying its own regret,
sugar to taste like salt.

Afraid of the blame,
begging to just sort;
How could we handle,
The situation I bought.

Cold winter evening,
white sparkling frost;
these pages of chaos,
and my poems are lost.