Stained Glass Skin

You wear your pain, like jewelry. Each crack another memory.

You smile through the shattered light. Pretend it doesn't cut inside. They call you

strong, they call you brave. But they don't see the glass

they made. You hold the pieces stained with sin. Glue them down.

Start again. Every time you fall apart, you just

paint over the scars. You shine, but the light gets in.

Through every cut on your stained glass skin. You hide your hurt in colored

frames. But the cracks still whisper names. You shine, but the light