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