As I walk across my room
another small shard of glass
manages to inbed itself between my toes.
A quiet curse escapes my lips
and I hobble to my bed.
As I am pulling out the bloody shard
I realize two things.
One:
This shard of glass almost hurts
as bad as Scott's betrayal.
And two:
I should never smash glass frames
that held my lover's picture
in the bedroom where I walk barefoot.
~Note from Kelly~
I wrote this back in November of 2009 after my most recent relationship was destroyed. The breakup sent me into a state of depression that was pretty intense. But after I wrote this poem, I had to laugh. Then I wrote on the same page, "The only good thing about this depression is that for the first time in months, I can write a decent poem."
Love you.
Mean it.
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