I stare at the clothes on the floor,
crumpled in a ball. The news
clicks on. People in foreign
countries kill each other.
Breath the fire of love chokes me,
the mirror glaring into my
own scarred soul.
Rolling tears sting my dry lips.
I fall into my blanket, cover
my body. Guilt stops my new heart;
I scratch away the pain.
Deidre Grotbo
