Not to look at it ever again,
not to see that way anymore,
I hide myself from me, from us
and from that day, the picking up
of fragments, that give slivered cuts,
the red draw, red blood,
in rivers drowned the ground,
lost streams of yesterday. They say
when the mirror shattered the image
was not broken into so many pieces,
but was multiplied like stars, bright
brittle bites, across heaven,
will die now, willed when the one glass
splintered to many, the life after it fell.
* * * * *
Happy #WriterTuesday : ) Today’s writing prompt is
fall
Use the #WritingPrompt to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece as a comment below. I would love to read it : )