Screams fill my ears, though others around seem unfazed.
Internally they echo in the cavity of my chest.
Illuminating my startling lack of internal organs;
For they have liquidised and seeped out of my toes.

Eyes glazed in pain, nodding and smiling like a doll.
On autopilot, completely oblivious, lost in sadness,
Guilt fills and spills through my emptiness,
Filling me with hot, sick shame.

His eyes shine with wondrous understanding,
Which only pains me all the more.
Undeserving as I am, they taunt me,
They are the most beautiful knife in my chest.

His smile twists it sharply,
His words of apology dig it deeper,
And still I smile, not wanting him to feel bad.
Irony; a second knife.

Oh that my dying breath be used to absolve him of guilt.
For he deserves none,
Yet still he shall burden himself so.
Making me feel all the worse.

This endless cycle of guilt and pain,
And pain and guilt,
And who can stop it?
Who can piece together these shreds of normality?