This tearing pain
A hole inside of me is gaping and gnashing sharpened fangs
I cringe and bare my teeth, but no one can see me
Outside I am stone and my eyes are masks
Inside I am wrestling with myself, trying to keep my howl of anguish from escaping
I speak and my voice cracks, stone cracks
Face flickers and the war in my heart is bared for all prying eyes
But no, I hold the veneer, stretching it over my brittle smile
I rub my face with my shaking hands and fill in the cracks with makeup of lies
I've forgotten how to cry
Soon the pain numbs and sinks into my scalded heart, becoming one with my very flesh
I do not feel the pain
I am the pain
The aching wounds in my chest slowly ebb, but do not heal
They fabricate rough scars, still serrated with agony
My disfigured heart is barely hidden beneath my sweetened exterior
I am not as I seem

And although love seethes within my being, brightening my eyes, living in my very soul

The pain sears through my mind and produces a bitter acrid taste in my mouth

Hate is the cause of this pain
This tearing pain
This pain that all will know
That burning, blistering cube of tears that slides down your throat and explodes in your chest
That look of shock that envelops your face and takes hold of your eyes without your consent
That need to gulp back tears you feel are welling

That tearing pain
That slap of bias
That punch of discrimination
That kick of prejudice
That blade of intolerance
That bullet of narrow-mindedness

This pain that grows
and festers
and rots the mind
and putrefies the heart
and corrupts the soul

From the hands of even the most inadvertent gardener
Who are you to plant the seed?