The shards of my broken life
Stick me painfully today
As they have in many past, and will in more to come
Some days I can almost pretend they are no longer there
Hidden just beneath the surface
Waiting to tear away the skin
With any given twist or turn.
Some days I can almost pretend.
But not today.
Pressing its way outward
Screaming its own story of my failures as it breaks the skin
Together, a snarling symphony of my own disappointment
Why did I put these hateful things in here?
For what purpose have they been so well embedded?
For a purpose there must be
It simply cannot be the cruel twists of random fate alone
And nothing more