Stopped

When you drop a glass it shatters.
A million tiny little matters.
Something whole.
Now broken.
Shattered and smashed.
Kind of like you.
Once proud and composed.
Now dislocated.
Limb by limb separated.
Divided by a sharp shiny metal.
Blood dripping
The color of a red rose petal.
How beautiful the blade shined
As it struck.
Now used and ugly
It lays discarded on the cement.
Unfeeling and unremorseful,
As the owner that used it so mercilessly.
I nick my wrist.
To draw blood
To see what you saw.
To feel a mosquito bite of how you felt.
I fail for I feel.
I feel the pain.
I feel the pain and stop.
Your pain did not stop.
Did not stop until you stopped.
When does my pain stop?
Does it ever stop?
Or does it keep going until I stop?

“Twisted Elegance”

R.I.P Tyrone Mohamed Smith...There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss you.