On my hands and knees again

Bleeding fingers

Picking up shards of broken glass.


Eyes pricked with tears

Annoyed at my own stupidity

Why must everything I touch break?


Healed hands now cover my ears

To block out broken shouts.

It’s my fault this is happening again.


A mirror breaks backstage

Costumed girls say “7 years bad luck”

I think my curse will last longer than that.


I break some things on purpose

I throw and I shout

Just so I’m not the only thing that’s shattered.


Broken bones, broken hearts, broken trust,

Broken smiles,

A whisper that I am fine.


I clean up before anyone notices,

Always pretending nothing happened.

But blood stains.


I’ve broken many things,

Including myself.


I worry I might have broken you too.


10 thoughts on “Shattered

  1. Every line of this hepled bring to life vivid memories of a recent past. If this poem was a reflection for you then you should know that you just experienced the human condition. Poetry is your way of picking yourself up before anyone notices. If this was a projection then I couldn’t possibly give you the props you deserve. My last poem was called Fool’s Dance and it has a somewhat similar theme to this one. At any rate, keep writing. I love your posts!

    Liked by 1 person

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