Trying to find where you live is picking up jagged pieces is wrapping the gash from the
contact of the sharp corner colliding with your skin.
Dropping the plates feels like 8 PM feels like asking you to pass the salt.
Broken mugs are glued together like an antique puzzle,
fragment by fragment found one under the table,
found one I stepped on it.
Almost reversed except for the lines running around it,
the memory and experience also regret.
It still works if you're in need of a mug but always drips a little from a crack the glue
Bought some new dishes fixed the kitchen sink fixed the glass on the tiles.
Found new tiles found new reasons to break some new dishes.
Forgot to wrap the gash it'll heal anyway.
forgot to ask to pass the salt the plates dropped themselves.
Feels like 8 PM feels like 9 feels like 10.
Put the broken dishes away buy some more glue later.
Mickey Lucas is a Canadian writer with an interest in emotions and every other art medium. They are currently working on their first chapbook, No Cry for Love. They are fascinated by the power of coffee and people. Visit them on twitter @pepsisuicide. They also really like succulents.