It breaks
before my very eyes.
And the echoes that remain
are shattered in my mind.

I watch,
Watch as the plate in my hand
falls to the ground. It doesn’t matter.
The tiny pieces, shimmering
on the tiled kitchen floor,
cut my feet as I walk
and pick up a stone from

I see my reflection,
My reflection breaks too.
Threw the mirror across the room,
against the wall. Then I
cut my empty hands
as I picked up the shards.
My features bleeding on the glass.

The television was snowing softly. I,
I broke that too – first,
the connection, next,
the screen. I tore it
apart for the sake of it,
And the wires that connected
my memories,
I cut them. Cut them.
I cut the chord.

Then I see,
See the window shatter,
Light reflecting from
every piece. Beautiful.
I fell to the side,
cut my leg. An open wound.
The fire spread
throughout my calf and thigh,
Until it consumed the limb.

The house destroyed,
Destroyed to rubble
and ashes.
I did it, didn’t I?
Burned it after my rampage
in which I attacked my
abode. I destroyed walls,
Doors, windows, furniture.
And watched it be reduced
to ashes. It reminded me
that the clock ticks
away. It counts
The seconds, a timer,
until we are consumed
by embers and
We all burn.

There I stood, wondering,
Wondering how I,
little me, conjured these
in my mind.