We are all made of glass.
We are the scratches on cell phones,
jagged edges of the broken beer bottles
we hold to each other's throats
as we watch the blood trickle
down like tears
and yet we continue to crack
and shatter
and let the shrapnel hit the ones closest to us
as we self destruct
quickly and

Loudly.

I am done with this war,
these explosions ringing in my ears,
I am done with watching my mother pull the broken bits of the ones she loves out of her stomach
and putting them back together
over and over
As she lets herself bleed out.

I am made of glass.
I let myself shatter
on the kitchen floor
day in and day out
like the china plates you threw across the room.
I am done with this war.
I cannot fight with broken bottles and dirty china plates
I am tired of shattering
I am tired of
being made of

glass.