tagNon-Erotic PoetryBreaking Stuff at the Smash Shack

Breaking Stuff at the Smash Shack


I want a drink, and then a plate or vase
Or heart to hurl against their steel back wall.
What I want is shards, the thin ones that cut

When you walk over them, Miranda. Cut
The way you cut me out, like an old vase
Of unbecoming form. I was a wall,

Bricks laid with affection, but yet a wall
Laid in the way of your ambition. Cut
Through me, baby—I'm your brittle glass vase,

Your shattered vase, your broken wall. Yeah. Cut.

Survivor Poetry Contest
Form Q (Tritina)

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bypushkine© 1 comments/ 1749 views/ 1 favorites
1 Pages:1

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