She can see the sadness of her new face,

It’s as visible as a tear on newly embroidered lace,

No matter how much she laughs and smiles,

The lady’s face still shows the bitter trials.

Her grief is standing by her side,

Some days she can take it in her stride,

To harness it within her own art,

Before it returns to rip her apart.

The abuser returns to haunt her nightmares,

Whispering that no one actually cares,

Until she believes every poisoned word,

No matter how untrue or absurd.

Right now all she can do is take it one step at a time,

To stop trying to think of a reason or a rhyme,

But instead, she must let the feelings pass,

Before the sand traps her within the hourglass.