on things unsaid

for those situations when you have to use your own experiences and mistakes to prevent another's heartbreak and ruin...

With faltering

steps, you

approach the

f

e

n

c

e,

greener grass

beckoning.

I watch, screaming

whispers in vain.

I pull on my

tattered armor,

forged in the fires

of my own

mistakes,

and wage the war

for your

happiness.

As you hesitate,

the silent battle

rages

to protect you

from yourself.

 

Exhausted but

victorious,

I am left

picking up the

pieces of my

    b

           r

   o

          k

              e

      n

reality.

Do you

notice

my tortured

glances—my

battle scars

unhealing?

I have no

armor to

protect me

from the

questions   

in your eyes.

 

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

incredible. That last line especially is profound. Wonderful poetry.