Your Buckle Left its Mark

It came with no warning.

You’d laugh.

Toughen up
you’d say,
so I held
my bruises
close,
and they
were only
mine.

Till old age
restrained you
with tubes
and warning beeps.

In your stupor,
I could see
your paper thin
skin
thicken black
with karma.

And if you thought
I could hold back
my tears,
you’d be wrong.

Again.