To heal, you must first feel pain.

A heart lies on the pavement,
broken,
                              bruised,
glass.

On the street corner,                                                                   a girl waits impatiently for the bus.

She’s running from what’s bothering her.

Because she doesn’t want to face it.
The flowers bend at her feet,                                                            As the monsters surround her
        Are seasoned                                                                                    with compliments.

  Her mother with the brains of a deer is calling, telling her to keep to the side and come home.

‘IDIOT!’

He screamed at her,
rising from his seat,
         the cigar,
falling from his mouth,
face as red as the carpet,
    before it ignited.
‘You really are an idiot.’

                              Monsters
                                           weren’t
                                                     meant
                                                               to
                                                                   come
                                                                          to
                                                                           the
                                                                              surface.