Broken

i am the loose thread in the weave

the black sheep

that you percieve

the piece of the puzzle

that fell on the floor

lost for the ages

ever more

the one who cried

and made the most noise

the one who pained

and felt little joy

what did you do

to make me fear

enough to sleep with a kitchen knife near

what was I thinking in my childs head

to hide on the floor

beside my bed

i waited for darkness

to keep me safe

i waited to grow up

and get away

but now you see

i am haunted still

by the mother who hated

and the daughter who feared