My mamma threw out my crayons just cause they were broken.
I’d never throw anything out
Just cause it was broke.

But
I broke the mirror once
Only the corner
Angry
I hit with my fists
And it fell
I went to pick it up
But
It cut my finger
And
It dripped
Red
Onto the yellow linoleum floor.

Two weeks later I found my mamma
With blood leaking out of her wrists
It poured
Red
Onto the yellow linoleum floor
The mirror
Shattered
And a spiderwebbed piece
Sticking up out of her arm
In it
I could see my face.
I could see it
And it was my mamma’s face
But younger
And it was broken.

I hope
I’m never broken
Like that.