Broken Glass

-

A realization. Drawn out silence.

Wide eyes, uneven gasps, she will not mend.

Too loud, her heart pounding in defiance.

Her skin crawled – a trickle of sweat, descend.

A vigorous sensation near her heart,

its iciness would not cease to subsist.

Metallic taste, flushed face was counterpart;

her pale hands were clenched into sweaty fists.

Glass, liquid red, slipped through fingers as sand—

motion lingered – a standstill of dire time.

No comforting words and no helping hand.

Droplets like blood plummet, but she was mime.

As sharp pieces of reflection shattered,

Her frail world would become taunting, tattered.