My Monologue

Never was I...
one to cry.
Never did I...
think that I had died...
until I woke up...
and saw myself...
yesterday.
There are some things we consider small,
but this is one that I didn't see at all.
Standing there in the dirty john,
looking at what he's loved all along,
I feel like a woman,
examining each part,
but knowing it's not there right from the start.
For a while I did not see,
that part that was cut right off of me.
Maybe that's because I never really knew myself,
until I had known someone else.
And now without my choice,
I've got nothing left but my head and voice,
I don't understand how I had gone without,
but scars reveal just how it came about,
and I make my eyes mimic the marks,
until they turn away.
Now like a young mother,
I'll never see it,
again...