Torn

It’s as predicable as the sun rising and setting The words of weapons passing by my tongue Perhaps its what I see in myself Mirrored from my past childhood of discontentment Although I’ve always thought I was trying in my strangest way To wish away the demons that plagues your thinking You must know I didn’t purposely try to bruise your heart What have I done to separate our bond? Now we thrush away the protected layers Leaving the raw form there in the open Traumatized and bleeding I see now the mess I’ve made; can I mend your pain? You’re my heart my soul my purpose for living I bear the consequences on a daily basis Hidden away like a restless child with torn fingernails I dwell in the disappointment from my Mother Knowing all I wanted to do was be better I’m regretful please accept my apology I love you! Mom