The wood floor is cold.
The loneliness I feel now has no comparison.
They are all turning away hiding their faces
I broke something precious.
This explosions shrapnel has hit me
left me here
cradling my head in my bloody hands.
When some pain subsides I must just breathe.
Every corner I turn to they say I am wrong
all I feel is rejection and pain.

Am I broken did this explosion end the person I was or am?
I struggle to breathe the one thing I must hold on too
it seems to want to escape
like the pieces of my old life.

I gasp at it and realize
I can not drown in these tears
I hold in my adolescent hands.

My decisions only help me grow
they don’t tear me down.
I pour the dirty salty water
that has consumed me
to the floor that is now ablaze
with my will to move on
from this incident and my past .

I will wash them away
with fresh cold water of the faucet.
No remnants of this event will be evident
when I hold my head up high.
I will use caution
the next time it comes to love any one person.
No one can take my breath away.
No one can break me.