scatterbrain

d a m a g e d g o o d s

fragile is the name, crimson

stamped across my forehead

not a treasure chest, a trove

but instead a wooden casket

i think about how effortlessly

i could dip a pale finger into honey

stick it between my teeth like a cigar

and bite it clean off my palm

only a crunch and metallic aftertaste

i romanticize the thought of

splitting the textile of my cranium

and sending shards of my disposition

that could slice into my soles

scattering across the wooden floor

i guess i must be tough, to not follow through

i guess i must be just a bit as solid, as fragile

if only i knew how to be soft, pillowed

if only i knew how to fold and mold,

could knead myself like marzipan

if only i knew how to melt myself

into the semblance of concrete

and chisel myself into the shelf

and not the damn chinaware

the porcelain, glass, frosty hard candies

smashed, crushed to jagged smithereens

aren't they exquisite? aren't they divine?

how they shatter, but how they do shine