It's when everything aches
that you realize you've been lying
when you said that you were steel,
when you said you couldn't break,
because now you're lying on the kitchen floor, shattered like the plate you threw
out of frustration, and you've been crying so loud that you're neighbors are worried,
and the "I'm sorry" you sent in the mail can only go so far, because a bandaid can't fix me anymore.