Tongue dipped

in silver.

Sharp like a bladed edge.

I am hard to love.

Sighs slicing blindly through air.

Sharp like whispers down church pews

as the “other woman” walks down

the aisle.

I am the other woman.

My head held as high as my heels.

Clack on the varnished floors.

Varnishing my exterior to reflect your hatred.

I know.

I am hard to love.

Love.

Cold as the sea

crashing against the rocks.

Shattering the shells rubbed smooth by waves.

Smooth like like the armor that guards my heart.

Shattered in pieces like the shells.

I am hard to love.

Alone.

Standing out in a crowd of none

Bravely facing the reflection of many.

Many in the form of one

with dark brown eyes that see more.

More than expected.

Of me.

I close my eyes and breathe.

Open and face my truth.

In reflection

I am hard to love.