You promised to keep me in good hands like a golden egg but your promises shattered into millions of chaotic fragments in a way that disintegrated my soul, annihilated my confidence, reducing my insides, soured my spirit.
A suckling at first glance would see tell-tale signs of a battered soul...my soul which you tampered with, as though it was your playgrounds and I your game.
Now, I'm an obvious residue and you're the reason for this blot. I sit broken and in despair, before our progeny too young to know better than crawl through the broken shards of me.