Birds circled overhead…

Because they were ready to feast…

On what has long been dead.

The old me…

I’ve shed her skin,

Standing over the carcass as we speak…

She was weak.

Too kind, too fogiving.

Me?

Not anymore.

I can’t be…

Look at all the scars in her back,

From all the knives that stabbed her.

All those wounds…

From the people who ‘loved’ her.

Hardened my heart,

Won’t let anyone like that in again.