Laurels Literary Magazine Spring 2014 | Page 17

Glass Brittany Lopez The poison flows through veins— black sludge permeating life’s richness with the slow moving momentum of a train speeding down the tracks, a car sliding across black ice, or the words that form on my mother’s lips, but remain soundless. “you broke me” The irony of breaking people, however, is not that one person remains unscathed while the other rots, but that both participants end up shattered— vases knocked from their pedestals and left to reflect their surroundings in fragmented shards. Beautiful as the content lea