And Her Tears Were Daggers

And she taught me how

she used her tears as daggers

as diamond-studded stilettos

trickling down her cheeks

through my ribs

to the heart

She showed me how

to weaponized those crying

eyes and magnify her pain so

mine would be trivialized

whenever I was bold enough

to open my mouth and

speak of it

She found the target that was

my guilt and gleefully pulled

the trigger so the bleeding

hole grew bigger if her words

so much as disagreed with

mine

She ran forward to thrust her

nails into the wounds and

made them wider so they would

accept grit and grime

And every time she wished my

silence she could smash her fists

against infected lesions and I’d

tense my aching jaw

But ah, my prodded heart grew

callouses and the tears lost their

power to make my gut twist

and writhe in loathing of

myself

And the ‘I’m sorry’s’ are pre

recorded to be played back when

necessary and while they leave

her satisfied I am hollow as I let

them fly past lips and unclenched

teeth

From all the things she has shown

me I have grown to learn instead

to keep my own eyes dry.