Prompt: Write a broke poem
How I Know I’m Not Broken
Last week, a glass slipped from my soapy
hands and shattered across the kitchen floor.
I swept up fragments and chunks from each corner
and even used the vacuum hose to swallow
the last of the invisible bits. But yesterday,
bare feet found a forgotten shard
near the electric stove. I felt the sting,
but the slice of pain didn’t break the skin.
Just like today, when I said your name
without wincing as the letters left my lips.
~Pamela L. Taylor © 2013
April 13, 2013 at 14:27
Ah. Very nice.
April 20, 2013 at 08:57
very very nice
April 20, 2013 at 11:25
Thanks! You missed the creation of this poem at Open Eye.