The Broken Glass

February 1st, 2022

I am more broken
Than the eggshells on the floor
I tiptoe quietly
Because this became a war
No sudden movements
No need to sound the alarm
But you pierce me with your words
Like they’re shot from firearms
These eggshells are sharp
On my feet that are bare
And for years I waited on a sign
That you wanted to be there
I made wishes on eyelashes
And every underpass
I walked through hell for you
But I won’t walk on shattered glass