The Shattered Woman

The Shattered Woman

I found a shattered woman today,

Broken all over the kitchen floor.

She was a smashed vase,

Water pouring,

Smashed glass jutting upwards,

There was a soiled puddle of a face,

And her legs stemmed out into a sprawl,

Her fingers cradled her head, skin as thin as ripped petals,

Ripped roots of hair about her body,

Her chin wobbled, 

It shook, shook over her dented fore-head.

I tried to gather her together,

Tried to re-construct her,

But I couldn't find all of the pieces.

Reviews

[ROXANE DORSEY]

depression is so real. thanks for sharing this poem.