On my hands and knees again
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,
A whisper that I am fine.
I clean up before anyone notices,
Always pretending nothing happened.
But blood stains.
I’ve broken many things,
I worry I might have broken you too.