scissor secrets leak from eyes
dropping like dominoes into hands
as he tries to hide each involuntary confession
with tight grasps of darting glances
but she's not blind

silence scratches at clogged throats
and she tries to regurgitate the indigestible
(when swallowing truth is asking too much )
but the silence, it's growing
into his inner roars of "I don't love yous"
and she's not deaf

with a blink of emotion,
he peels eternity like a 7 year sun burn
in the baking rays of her loyal affection
and lipstick bruises decorate his renewed flesh
but those kisses aren't hers
and she's no fool

footsteps are leading
toward that doorway which once welcomed him
as flakes of their moulted past trail behind
she gathers the pieces of her paper thin heart
that his scissor secrets cut so well
and she is hopeful
(she'll be whole again soon)