A worn out welcome. Beaten like a pair of jeans that have been torn to shreds by years of consistent abuse. Dignity, shattered like the shards of a mirror and scattered over a cold lifeless floor.
No where to run. No where to hide. Laid bare for all to see.
Wounds run deep. Flesh ground to a pulp by words of degradation. Stabbing words, not heard, but felt. Words spoken behind closed doors, behind curtains of deceit.
Tears of pain filling soft, caring eyes. Bitten by the snake-like tongues of others. Tongues of brothers… sisters…
There is no rage. There is no anger. Only… anguish, heartache… betrayal.
One is left to contemplate… Why? What is? What was? What is to come?
The mirror of reflection, broken, scattered… left to turn inward. Self-loathing. Deprecation.
What remains? A soul in need of repair. A soul needing reprieve… needing a newness of life. A rebirth.
Is this an ode to pain? A cry for help?
Never. Merely an acknowledgment of defeat. A moment of serious personal reflection…
A dose… of humility.