Broken Glass

January 30, 2014

It’s on you. Like a swarm of sugar-hungry wasps it smothers you. Your hands, though covered, do not shake. Those ever-swelling knees refuse to tremble. Your mouth is bamboo, and your eyes are as blue as water, as dry as ever. A rotting painting. A crumbling statue of yourself. Eventually we’re alone again, and you get up, and you leave, […]