Broken Toys

In this electronic world, how does one even seek print publishing? Is print publishing still alive for poetry? Curious. My stuff is likely too often too dark and to raw to put in print anyway.

I'm down, I'm broken
I'm here, I'm your token
Of a love once lost
And a man mistaken
For good, for real
Instead of drugs or steel

He's gone, I'm here
It's him, you fear
But I'm the token
Of a relationship broken

One more time
Just yell, I'm here
Give me hell because my eyes fell
My face was solemn, my jaw locked
Now red marks on me
So many bruises they don't see

I'll cry no more, your problem
I'm not sore, you're broken
 
You're here, but I'm leaving
Your fear will fester
You'll get no better

Little boy
He's coming with me
You won't ruin him too
Sand and sorry you
Will have no toys to break

You'll have more than one hated date
You'll have only one promise left to make
Just one left to break
One life to take

Author's Note

I fully appreciate reviews, especially when they tear apart my work in an attempt to make it better. Rip, tea, break it down. Tell me how you do not like it, how to make it better. I want your opinion. Truly.