breaking glass

breaking glass
falls upon the steps at which I stand-
cowardly afraid to pick it up;
callously worried about myself
and how those shards might hurt me-
with no regard to the bloodshed
created for those who walk alongside…
and though I would die before
i hurt one i love
i am torn by the need for my own peace
and resolving who i am….
what is the point of loving when
the pain caused by my very being
resonates so strongly around me?

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s