Torn

Torn and tattered I lie down there

Near the bin, crushed

In hotel rooms with phone numbers on me

Or in the the schools with love letters I breathe

With every tears I soak

With every lip paint I smear

I know the depth of pain she wears

In her trembling hands, turning

I feel her heart burning

Torn and tattered I lie down there.

To see her nose leak adding on to her flaws

she is tired yet never gives up on me

Agitated to look herself into the mirror

Pale and dark she smudges the kohl

Ugly and befuddled she holds me tight

And down again I go near the bin, crushed

With all her pains and tears flushed

Nobody knows what she’s been through

I am a keeper, a paper of words

I won’t  let her secrets out

I’ll cry my tears when I see her fake smiles so loud.