I as the Egg

‘You are like an egg,’ she says.
Having a firm and stiff outside skull,
With that yielding interior, and easily broken core.
She uses me, throws me, and tries to break me,
And so I let her.

Waiting for her to crush me, is the climax of my day.
Feeling like I’m crashing into a window,
Slowly breaking whatever makes me,
As I drip to the floor, completely broken.

As I fall to the cold unforgiving ground,
She observes me in the pinnacle of my embarrassment,
Making that same peculiar face at me and all of my shattered pieces.

And so I look back at her, with tears in my eyes
And after our moment’s glare, I start to think she understands me,
Understands what I’m trying to say to her,
Understands who I am, as that egg.

Before I watch her put that burgundy inched stiletto
Right back into me, yet again.
Crushing me one more time.