..about that shooting pain inside me somewhere?
The pain that stems from memories that will fade with time,
but how they made me feel will remain,
torn and tattered,
they will remain in pieces within me,
in pieces in closed dark drawers in the corners of my mind
in the closed dark drawers in the pit of my stomach
and the ancient cupboard of painful nostalgia that lies within my heart.
Just what do I do when those broken pieces of glass begin to hurt me inside,
hurt me in turns,
in turns in different parts?
Just what do I do when you take a needle and prick me with it,
Like the broken glass inside wasn't enough.