My eyes burn from the tears I’m not crying
because I swore
I wouldn’t let what you did
hurt me anymore.
My hands are balled into fists
that won’t punch any walls.
The cracks in my heart not longer reflected
or frames of doors.
My mouth is pursed,
from words I’ll no longer let myself say.
I won’t pay any more lip service
to all the hell you raised.
But my heart remains open,
though still slightly bruised,
to accept the love from another,
and this time, it’s a love I choose.