Shattered Laughs

I put the needle to my skin

and gently slipped the needle in.

Just to see if I could feel

what I knew had once been real.

I poked again… perhaps I had missed?

I pricked once more- a fine red mist.

It gently sprayed: my hand ran red.

It was just then that my thoughts ran dead.

Where was the feeling, the pleasure, the pain?

Why was there nothing but a light scarlet rain?

As these thoughts were had, cracks had popped,

and scars ran over me as the red stopped.

I laughed at the mirror and the web on my face.

I laughed at the pieces as they fell out of place.

One by one they crashed on the ground;

a deafening shatter of fragmented sound.