The Things She Writes

  I‘ve worn my heart to tatters, ribbons of bloody gore, until I‘ve nothing left to beat, no armor to be worn.   silence feels like heaven, a bareness of my soul, like a wiped clean slate, free of a former role.   lonely, lonely, says my mind. slowly it repeats. lonely, lonely, echoes the stone, solitary at my feet   a toothy ache blunts the lips that once could wear a smile.