Frayed Edges

Staring at the chipped corner of my nail,

the uneven red clings like a fading song,

a small testament to choices that derail,

seeking attention, and yet feeling wrong.

I remember the night, the laughter, the buzz,

and the way I tried to pretend it was fine,

this flaw reflects fragments, exposes the cause,

as I contemplate moments wrapped in this line.

Like a shattered glass with edges worn thin,

my thumbnail tells stories, both hideous and sweet,

a delicate dance of where I’ve been,

a reminder of struggles, not always discreet.