Here I am torn
I think you should know
For I am always full of scorn
That keeps me aglow

You who were my mother
Never understood why I left
To me you were just another
Who never realized you left me bereft
(of a father, of a home, of love)

My home was a cold room
Often filled with regrets
Tidal pools in the shade
Never to be touched by sun or moon

Here I am torn
I wish you could see
So you could morn
The loss of the girl who once was me

You who were my lover
I could never forget
You helped me discover
A world without fret
(than took it away)

My soul was an empty glass
Always waiting to be filled
Shadowy museums of beauties
Left to rot in the dark

Here I am torn
I hoped you would care
So you could see the world unto I was born
And understand why I say to beware

You who were my friends
All with your own stories
But our shared stories always came to short ends
‘Cause we all had our own auto-biographies

My life was filled with chilly breezes
A room none cared to warm
With love or soft words
A desert landscape left untouched
(or even viewed)

Here I am torn
Between empty words
And thoughts even more forlorn
Touches even more ephemeral then migrating birds
Until reminiscing turns each beloved smile into a painful thorn
And I can only tear myself apart
To remove the infected tissue
… As if it was an art

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