You told me you cared but your teeth were bared.

You looked upon my smooth surface and saw potential for harm.

How are you supposed to see the hell lying beneath?

Take one leap into the deep and live with my daily pain.

You were afraid. I wasn’t worth it.

I was a game to you and you never felt the same.

I was your weekly toy and I believed you were a nice boy.

When you left, you had no idea that the pain leaves behind a nasty stain.

How could you?

 

Who would want someone so broken?

How could they look upon my shattered surface and see a beauty lost long ago to a demon on duty?

They saw someone worth loving, despite all my shoving.

I am broken, I told them. They said I was a token.

I was their glistening gold, abandoned by the unworthy and picked up by the lucky.

My dull shine was promptly polished back to a gentle glow.

They believed themselves lucky, but I was far more so.

They accepted my wounds and never had fear of my tears.

 

They shaped me better than you ever could.

For warm hands mold better than cold.

My tears are their melody.

They brought me clarity.

Now I am able to see

That “what” doesn’t matter, but “who.”