untitled [metta1/the love of children for their mother is greater than the love of the mother for her children]

having lost it
i pick up the pieces
time and time again
i cut myself on the sharp edges
of my voice raised too loud
i hit myself with the fist
of my anger
time and time again
i patch up the wounds
trying to heal the scratches
of unkindness
mending the broken bones
of trust
seeking forgiveness,
i know that your eyes
teach me all i need to know
about love