Second Thought

Credit to owner/movie Devdas

The vines make their way between my thighs and waist

Filled with tears, thorns begin to sprout

Stabbing my sides, every which way

Where do I go from here

Where do I turn

As if I was a broken stained glass, once admired but now feared, pitied, and disposed of.

As the vines inch close to my breast plate it halts

As if to take its last breath before plunging into my heart.

Tears begin to trickle down my face as I stare silently at the thing that has placed the vine around me.

Ah, this is what betrayal feels like

Week 17, Part of the The Writing Cooperative52 Week Writing Challenge, *I’d like to thank my laptop and my charger for pulling me through, because I’m on time*