Wounds into Wisdom

The woman behind the curtain?

Oh, I know her all too well.

The games she plays,

Are like fiery hell. 

In need of a friend,

She'll stop her stage show.

Next her crocked smile appears,

The one that appears straight through my tears.

Handing me a knife,

She tells me I'm weak.

And because she's my friend,

I take it in relief. 

After the deed is done,

And she's given me what I deserve,

Her audience gives her a clap,

As she sneaks behind the curtain for yet another encore.

 

 

 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741