shards of glass, scattered on the floor,
once whole, now shattered by the force of me,
a fragile thing, meant to hold light,
but now it glimmers with the threat of pain.
thin as whispers, these pieces lie,
invisible almost, until they strike,
cutting deeper than the thickest blade,
leaving wounds that fester out of sight.
i never meant to drop the glass,
to let my anger slip and shatter it,
but now the fragments pierce their skin,
and i watch them bleed because of me.
rage is a beast i cannot tame,
it rips through me with claws of fire,
and in its wake, the glass breaks,
and the people i love bear the scars.
their eyes hold questions i cant answer,
why this pain? why this fury?
but all i have are broken pieces,
and hands too sharp to mend them.
i wish i could gather the shards,
and make the glass whole once more,
but every touch draws more blood,
and im left watching them suffer,
cut by the thin glass of my soul.
pain consumes us, like a slow-burning flame,
turning everything to ashes,
until theres nothing left but dust,
and memories of what we could have been.
im sorry for the hurt ive caused,
for the glass ive shattered with my rage,
but apologies are just words,
and the glass remains broken,
a constant reminder of the pain ive sown.
YOU ARE READING
poetry
Poetrytrigger warning. dont expect you to read this, words are simply that. just words. but if you do i hope you enjoy 👍 and if you relate to any of these, im so sorry. (all of these are original and written by me unless its said otherwise) might also in...
