Mornings Like This

Broke a mug in the sink this morning-

A clear tumbler slipped through my hands like a cue ball

dashed the pale blue ceramic to bits

Slit my finger on a sliver of glass this morning-

A drop of crimson trickled from the gash

stained the dishwater titration-pink

Stared out the bus window and forgot to turn away at a certain intersection this morning-

A tiny tremour welled up

lodged itself in the space between my rib cage

No matter how I navigate the minefield of memories

I seem to be perpetually cutting myself on the shards


November 2017