Painted Eggshells
filled with lies; my life unfolds
a shattering glance, my blood runs cold,
painted eggshells; breakable
crack and fall, with fractured skull
hospital beds, disinfect
the part of my life you don’t detect
one time a punch, one time a kick
lying on the floor, feeling sick
my body cries with muted pain
you took all of me, made me feel insane
although you’re gone, locked away,
I lie awake, waiting for the day
you seek me out, and make me sorry
it gets hard to breathe, I’m so full of worry
I heard you’re changed, you regret your deeds,
but that just doesn’t cut with me
the scars you left are deeply etched
and I don’t need to hear your regrets
The Writer In Me . . . 