Abuse

Jagged edges of the blade, hand, and word
roughly tear open my flesh and mind.

Years of tears and secret abuse are locked in my skin
like the syrupy sap trapped inside the maple tree.

My burning bruises run in my veins
like the sap in the trunk of the tree.

But my secret sap is not sweet.
It is bitter and burning.

And inside, it does not flow smoothly like sap.
Instead, it dries in clumps,
clogging my heart and mind.

How do you melt frozen tears of the heart?