I am bruised
I never knew to what extent
My soul had been shredded
Until now
The house sleeps
Sounds of the night
Surround
And my fingers count my scars
Turning them over
Examining them in minute detail
I caress every ridge of scar tissue
Relishing the uneven surface
Hating and sinking and gasping and dying
You know what it's like.
Nightly I sink into inky sadness
just a ripple on the surface.
Tonight
Another casual comment
Sinks it's teeth
To get a grip
To grind away
At the little piece
That remains of
me.
