Portraits

I woke up in a new home
Unsettled and alone, so
Desparate for a sense of
What I want to hear
The happiest of birthdays
Avoiding me as always
A child living in
Naiveté and fear
She’s tearing down the portraits I had drawn
She’s planning her attack and I’m her pawn
I’m crying just in dealing with the fact that she is feeling that
The love we have could easily be wrong
My knuckles had stopped bleeding
Enough to make repeating
The things that drive me crazy
Not worthwhile
And now it’s just a matter
Of watching this world shatter
Over a phone that can’t
Hide a false smile
Don’t mistake frustration with
A lack of everything that’s good
Just to reach her
I did everything I could