Shattered Glass Dipped In Red: Four Shards; Third Shard

Third Shard
But black
I could clearly see where the past dried
And the new began 
I need to clean this dried blood
Before more comes
Damage control
Before I could even
I collapse
I’ve lost too much
I can’t move
What’s happening ?
What do I do ?
I need to clean
“There’s nothing left.”
With the strength I have left
I take a large shard of glass
And cut my forearm 
No red
I cut again
Nothing
I cut again 
And again
And again
Nothing 
There’s nothing left 
But scars
A shell
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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