Shards
My body is full of broken glass.
Big shards clink dully,
press against my skin.
I know if I look down,
I'll see their sharp outlines,
pushing out as though I were made of rubber.
I don't dare look down.
I sit afraid to move:
the noise of the glass grates on my ears
and it will pierce me through.
No-one can touch me;
I cannot press my fingers to my sides,
it'll slice through my skin and cut my fingertips.
3 comments:
horrifying feeling. beautiful words.
I love this.
I always say I have black ice in my eyes...
I just found you today via The Smirking Cat and will keep reading.
Thanks for posting ;)
Gertrude
Glad you both liked it. Or could relate. Although it'd probably be better (for you) if you couldn't! :D
And hello, welcome, gertrude. :)
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