Shattered

I do not know what came over me. The scourging sensation that makes me not think. Just a reaction, or more like a long explosion. Uncontrolled. Unbridled.

The glass apple. As it hit the floor, the end was certain. End game this is. Three years. And this is what it comes to. Smashed to pieces. The monster that lives within ignited, alive because of you. Stoked. Three years. Burning slowly. Till today.

I watched as you picked up the pieces. And a trickle of blood from your soft silky finger, it hurts me to see you that way. You grimaced. I remember the fingers, dancing. Nimble. Soft firm touches we shared. I surprised myself with such fury, directed to precious you. My precious. How could I?

No more. I walked away. For you deserve not such pain. And blood. Life in pieces, we moved on. The glass apple etched in memory. In smithereens.