I’m slipping  through the cracks again.
But hope tells me to hold on

I wonder if someday
I can weave myself
in and out of my mind

Vivid images
still seared deep inside

Some days I wonder
if I was really meant to stay alive

My body is still stained
with the scent of you.

My mind is still affected
by your twisted words
and abuse.

Infected by your touch
and like glass
my body chips away at times.

You smile to yourself
knowing you just got
everything you wanted from me.

Now here I am
smiling to myself
knowing I have a far better life
than you ever will.

Your actions were brutal
but you will never keep me on the ground.

This stained glass heart
will never completely break.

The demons in my head
only fuel
my passion to write.

My safe haven
from everything
that sets me apart
from this life.

The one last thing
I have in my life
to save me from myself.

A single strand of hope
it lies within every one of us.

We only need to draw it out.
It’s hidden deep in our hearts
in the darkest places of our minds.

From the ashes
we can create aesthetic poetry.

Fragments