The fight came from nowhere.  Words were said that should not have been.  Feelings tossed out like the trash.  Raw nerves grinded like coffee until there is no feeling.  Bruised, bleeding, alone, and crying in the corner.  Never again are the words that are there, but not out loud.  Self-healing bones and long sleeve shirts hide the damage.  At some point something snaps and clarity sets in.  There is an end to the madness,

Yes, there is an end.

It is not so easy to see

Which of the limbs have been broken

Or to know when the roots became visible to all

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