Offense

My skin fragments; I feel susceptible.

A mirror shattered is but shards of glass;
But each blade of self-image slices through
When you utter your light, careless offense.
I could scathe as swiftly; insensitive
To your open wounds. It's not my intent:
I wouldn't undermine your character.
I'll bite my tongue, and smile as I swallow
The bitter taste your slighting remarks leave.

I'm grateful I can count on your support.