One second
It's in your hand
Yours
Holding it
Feeling it
Treasuring it
It's there
In the moment
But the tiniest slip of the fingers
The smallest lapse in your concentration
And it melts through your hands
And plummets
And what's there to do?
Except watch it
Fall to the ground
It's like slow motion
In that moment
You hold your breath
Your heart spikes up through to your throat
You see what's going to happen
And
There's nothing you can do
Except
Accept
Accept
That when it hits the floor
It will shatter completely
No bringing it back
No redemption
Broken
And then
What can you do?
You can stare
Into the shattered fragments
The cracked off icicle
Searing your skin with frozen pain
Throat seizes
Tears form
Knowing that
If
You weren't so clumsy
It would still be here
And not dramatically arranged
In a mosaic of despair
It's no longer in your hands
It once was
There's nothing you can do
Tiniest grains irreplaceable
With great courage
In a fearful moment
You must grab the broom
And sweep it all up
And throw it away
Throw away your mistakes
The sour truth;
What's broken
Can't be
Fixed
YOU ARE READING
Bonded With Tears (7)
PoetryA poetry book. A semi-story based loosely on real life events, mainly my emotions amplified on paper. Also linked to the idea of homelessness.
