Torn Apart

Apart, in pieces, I pretend I am whole, but complete I am not.

Torn Apart
by Keaton Foster


I am two people,
sharing the same skin,
one who wants to rise,
and one who caves in.

A breath held too long
becomes a scream inside—
but quiet,
like thunder
behind trembling eyes.

The mirror won’t answer
what the silence already knows:
I am stitched together
by threads of shadow
and borrowed hope.

I smile like a stranger,
laugh like a ghost,
loving just enough
to feel it hurt the most.

Each heartbeat—
a war drum,
each step—
a split path.
I reach for tomorrow
with yesterday’s hands.

There was once light in me,
clear and sharp,
but life
is a thief
with a surgeon’s heart.

Now I wear wounds
like armor,
and scars
like stories
told too soon.

You ask me who I am?
I am the before
and the after—
the tear,
the mend,
the silence,
the shatter.

I am
torn apart
but still standing—
not whole,
but still
mine.


Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2025