Bombarded with pictures
I don't want to see.
My thoughts are like daggers,
Damaging me.

I used to feel whole,
But now shattered to bits.
Can barely function
Between crying fits.

With the rug pulled out,
Lying piled on the floor...
I wonder, is it possible
To break any more?

Am I broken for good?
Will I ever feel safe?
Can I learn to trust you
Even if you behave?

One thing I've been told...
I sure hope that it's right...
Is that piles of shards
Reflect EVEN MORE LIGHT.