your porcelain cup

108 5 1

by eventuallyy

by eventuallyy

i was not your
fragile porcelain cup,
but i fractured when you left.

you left and
unfurled your hand
and i tumbled to the ground and
b r o k e.

eyes burning at 4 am,
staring down the crooked darkness
that blanketed even the corners
of my room,
unable to keep my eyes shut.

and my edges became knife sharp
so anyone who tried to put
me back together would
just rip apart themselves.

but each day that passed
i got out of bed.

each one of those days
i was forced to drag myself
through the world,
when i could barely function.

zipped up my chest so
no one could see the chaos inside,
so pieces of my heart wouldn't
f
a
l
l
a w a y

i plastered on a flimsy smile
and told myself i was okay.

i said that so much it morphed into a yell,
a screaming declaration that
i could not be destroyed that easily.

i formed glue out of
fall afternoons and smiles from strangers,
and carefully pieced myself
back together.

i am not your porcelain cup,
because when i break,
i do not shatter..