Hot iron from the fire branding me. Labeling my broken heart.
Invisible.
All this time, all these years, unseen.
Broken down with words. Twisted, mangled, discarded heart.
Left to live alone. Rejected, dismissed.
All those moments I walked through in blindness. Excusing, striving, defending.
And by necessity, killing my own heart.
The heat burns like acid disfiguring my heart. Seeping through the cracks of shattered dreams.
Memories flood in at a relentless pace. Filling the seconds, minutes, hours.
Yet the view is always different. Where once I looked with filtered view, now I see the whole scene.
The lonely woman doing. Her hands locked tight holding it all together. Her heart clenched in fear and agony.
For if just for a second she lets go, it will all unravel. And these dreams. This life. The one they promised will crash to the floor and splinter into a thousand pieces.
So she begs, pleads. Strives. Demands. Loves. Prays.
Gives everything she has. Every last drop...
Until she runs dry.
Parched and barren her heart whispers, "no more".
There is no more.
No more carrying the weight of it all, while wading through his anger.
No more lies. No more twisted words. Manipulated heart. No more dying dreams.
The moment comes, when she begs one last time, "won't you fight?"
And in rejection pours her suffocating pain into Lamenting. The heart letting go...
The strands unraveling, breaking free.
And again she is there in the mirror. Her eyes full of Life.
My eyes.
No more.
No more will I make excuses. No more will I cover the anguish. No more will I absorb the pain.
I'm going to live.
Visible.
Seen.
