Porcelain
Parents problems - who doesn't have them, eh? Not sure this one's finished yet, but maybe it needs to finish in real life first.
You broke me,Like one of your ornaments that stood stoically upon the mantelpiece collecting dust,Knocked over by elephants of my own imagination.Chips and cracks were hidden with ravines of super glue,Made by worried tears that grew viscous from a concoction of fear and love. But I never noticed,Til now, after I became brittle and delicate, after my skin turned to porcelain.It cracks under these city lights, as the orange glow unearths damage done in secret.Secrets so loud we must have all been deaf not to hear them splitting me apart.But you were busy widening your own scars to notice mine.