There is so much to hide,
i shove my memories in a plastic box and place it under my bed, to let it collect dust. i avoid looking in that direction for fear i might open it, to reveal all the pain and horror, blood stains and shattered glass. the screaming filling my room and the dark glow as the memories replay.
i cant handle another night, sleepless, and filled with tears.
i cant dream another dream without waking in pain. my heart broken like that coffee cup on the floor beside my feet. the glass cutting into the soles of my feet, i cant feel it, but i can see the blood spilling out of the cuts, dark against the sandal wood floor... just another mess to clean up.
the story of my life.