I fell in love with a boy made of broken glass
Bound together by chicken wire and
Bid to stay upright by those who call on Sundays.
I begged him to let me in but there was no in to find
Barely some pieces having cracked to expose
A cavern where his heart may have been.
I begged him to let me love him but
He doesn’t know what the word means
Desecrated definition defiled by pretty girls before me.
I fell in love with a boy made of broken glass
And even though I wasn’t the one to break him
I still felt the shards when I held his hand.
As I felt my blood run down my fingertips
I tried not to notice but still
There is a—
Drip
Drip
Drip
—a pool of me at his feet.
Savannah S. Miller (she/her) is a writer, creative, and converted Memphian. Her work has been published by Ambidextrous Bloodhound Press, Silent Spark Press, and Future Publishing House. Read more at savannahsmiller.com.