Some falls hurt more than others,
and some stitches don’t hold,
and sometimes there aren’t enough bandaids –
When lies are the only thing sold.
And water runs under bridges,
and people jump off of them too,
and some bridges are burned –
and some just snap in two.
Promises are made,
but rarely do they last,
and the present is not why she drinks –
It’s to forget such a terrible past.
A blade not intended for killing,
a few quick swipes, then release,
and under her socks she hides,
scars that tell stories of grief.
Though she finds not a savior in Thee,
Her sins washed away now forgiven,
with her blood she cleanses her healing,
And survives one more day of her living.
When all whom attack get their filling,
Leaving only the broken to mend,
May your judgment and wrath be your
For the life you neglected to tend.