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Description
Our shoes crunch on broken glass.

The past we took with us,
Packed up in a box,
Wrapped up like a present,
Colorful and nice,
‘Fragile’ stickers pasted all around.

Somewhere,
It seems,
As we bumped and tussled,
Down the road of no returns,
They dropped out the back window,
And fell into the gutter.

As they journeyed their way,
Unaware as we were,
We moved further along,
In the other direction.

You lift up your foot to see us two,
Reflected in the tiny facets,
One hundred times and more.

As I watch our laughing smiling faces,
In the mirrors and photographs,
I wonder where those days have gone,
Why aren’t they here now?

I look at you,
With scratches on your face,
Where I clawed you,
And see in your eyes,
My own bruises reflected,
Purple welts blossoming on my cheek.

This is our love,
A cardboard box,
Wrapped up like a present,
Contents fractured,
‘Fragile’ stickers pasted everywhere,
The red ink smeared and fading,
From years of misuse.

Your hard eyes turn away from me,
Walk out of the room,
No more to be said or done this night,
Nothing left.

Such is a cardboard box,
Strong until the water falls,
Dampening the edges,
Skewing the sender’s name,
Falling apart.

Our shoes crunch on broken glass,
The remnants of that package,
Sent to ourselves,
When love was aplenty,
Arriving too little, too late.

Description
Our shoes crunch on broken glass.

The past we took with us,
Packed up in a box,
Wrapped up like a present,
Colorful and nice,
‘Fragile’ stickers pasted all around.

Somewhere,
It seems,
As we bumped and tussled,
Down the road of no returns,
They dropped out the back window,
And fell into the gutter.

As they journeyed their way,
Unaware as we were,
We moved further along,
In the other direction.

You lift up your foot to see us two,
Reflected in the tiny facets,
One hundred times and more.

As I watch our laughing smiling faces,
In the mirrors and photographs,
I wonder where those days have gone,
Why aren’t they here now?

I look at you,
With scratches on your face,
Where I clawed you,
And see in your eyes,
My own bruises reflected,
Purple welts blossoming on my cheek.

This is our love,
A cardboard box,
Wrapped up like a present,
Contents fractured,
‘Fragile’ stickers pasted everywhere,
The red ink smeared and fading,
From years of misuse.

Your hard eyes turn away from me,
Walk out of the room,
No more to be said or done this night,
Nothing left.

Such is a cardboard box,
Strong until the water falls,
Dampening the edges,
Skewing the sender’s name,
Falling apart.

Our shoes crunch on broken glass,
The remnants of that package,
Sent to ourselves,
When love was aplenty,
Arriving too little, too late.