.--------------.
|By Request|
`-------------‘
Written for: Isabel

Confronted

With each drop of blood,
They get no closer to a reason –
Only more pain
To release my inner treason.

Trading my life
For self image;
Labeling my own worth,
Trying only to salvage.

Hidden from you
Only to be felt inside;
No substitutions this time,
For the pain testing my pride.

I’ve all but stopped
Trying to explain;
Writing only to contain
The evidence that remanis.

©2004, Joe Jenkins