Fragments

A Poem by aiman.t.syed

A shattered crystalline carpet
From my feet to yours.
But that is not me
Those are not mine.
Those shards,
Sharp and brittle
Are too fragile,
Mine lie beneath veins
Crimson and blue.
Dull yet slowly,
Surely,
Pricking their way through.
They will bleed me dry,
Drop by drop,
Streaked across surfaces,
In agonised glory,
Like an artistic expression,
A sublime thought,
A foretold prophecy,
An undeniable frisson,
But never
A sudden mess
That shatters
So openly across the floor.
Unveiled and bare
To be crunched
Under feet
Or mocked by scathing
Unsympathetic eyes.
That is not me
Those are not mine.