In the Patterns

The patterns on the window shield me from the light.

I gazed upon the window pane and prayed for it to be night.

Each piece of the little artwork carried pain deep in my soul;

Each tiny little marking would never let me go.

As I pack up some of my belongings

And box up some of his. 

I stare back at the window

To see what will come of this. 

I had buried myself in the shadows trying to figure out what to do.

I had hid my heart in the darkness and acted like I knew

That the past lies in the patterns that lay upon the glass;

One tiny rock could shatter every ounce of the forbidden past. 

I never pretended to notice that the outlines were made in blood

And that every part of the shading was life just covered up.

I never thought the ending could ever be so clear

Until I noticed the shadows holding all my fear.

The patterns on  the window shielded me from the light;

And gazing upon the distant moon, I failed in my fight. 

Each piece of the little artwork that laid deep in my soul

With every tiny making that would never let me go.

~~grb  4/13/16