The eyes looking back at me,
look back at me.
As their world,
(my world?)
shatters.
Her face,
now a million.
Sparkling like stars,
on dirty bathroom tile.
Tenderly, i grab the knife-glass.
She, the most dangerous me i could be.
Her eyes,
disappointed.
Scowling.
“How clumsy,”
She thinks.
It was an accident.
A shard—
just a splinter.
Lodged in my finger.
She always was cruel to me.
On my knees,
i sweep Her away,
But the shard, still in my finger.
i think i’m glad She broke.
Emmaline Mohr is studying English and Professional Writing at Kennesaw State University. She has a passion for poetry, fantasy, and feminism, and often turns to writing to make sense of the world. When she’s not writing, she can be found working in her garden.