Judgement Day Poem by Robin Bennett

We walked on shards glass, a mass of ruins,
left behind when we split and crumbled.
Dying inside, caustic and bleeding poison,
distorted, painted cheer fooled no one that,
final judgement day.

Now, we were miserable enemies. At a time,
magic glows. In this moment, I dream of being a
knife thrower. My insides are black and blue,
bruised over and over. You've taught me to be
worthless, shamed and a failure.

This house is my prison. To call it a home would
be a lie. No love lives here anymore. Just walls
and strangers that despise each other. I no longer
talk to God. I don't have the strength, and I think
he wrote me off a long time ago. Every now and again,
I will ask him to please don't let me wake up in the
morning. I've grown oh so tired of this miserable,
wasted existence.