In Nights Arms

I just don’t have anything good to say anymore. It’s horrible little broken pieces that don’t fit together now.

I've stopped looking

At the mirrors in my house.

My wife has to tell me

When my hair is becoming

An awful tangled mess,

Or when my face looks

Like I've never held a razor

A single time in my life.

They just feel offensive,

Reminding me over and over

That I'm nowhere near

Who I want to be.

That I'm a little more broken,

A little more fragile

Than a man is supposed to be.


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Comments (1 so far!)

Average reader rating 5.00/5



All people are broken.

Glad you are writing again

  • #3341 Posted 3 years ago
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  • 5 out of 5
  • Published 3 years ago.
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