Filled with torn bits of tissue,
Each piece a memory
Soiled by the eventuality.
Unable to meet my own eyes,
The reflection stares accusingly,
Daring me to reach deep inside
And once more, come to the fore,
Come out and play.

So hard to put the shards
In some semblance of order,
Reach past the walls
Erected slowly, yet in haste.
Sweeping away the waste
I hide the stains
>From blood and gore
And swallow pride.

So hurt inside that it would be
Oh so easy to drown
In the salty expressions of
A love gone wrong
And just exist.
Even knowing that
I'd die without it,
That love is missed.

July 25, 1999

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