Thursday, October 6, 2011

On breaking

I am b ro k
Who ever said sticks and stones break bones but words can never hurt you didn't
know the power
of yours.

My skin is still there
but the bones inside are crumbling from the lashes
that scream off your tongue as your face

the little piles the bones form
on the floor when you leave.
I wonder about the five second rule
and then realise that
they will never be the same anyway
and the bacteria
is already there
everything. but

i try.
scraping the pieces together in some kind of fashion
once i crawl out from under the blankets with which i
stifle my agony so
you won't know how much
it hurts.
i'll keep that. but

the bones wont be as strong
next time
i can never get all the particles back
some are always left
on the floor
where you left them without even
little puffs of off-white on the heel of your shoe as you
out the door. but

i try.
i stuff the pieces
back in to their skin ziplock bag and hope
they'll find the places they belong.
i take some antibiotics in the hope i will get stronger.
they taste like guilt.
i want to give up. but

the day forces me on
so I smile
and I function
and I look the same
because to do otherwise would
you. but

i am n

I am b ro k

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