• the glass
    smashed
    on the cold
    tile floor

    the cold tile
    so slippery
    and shiny
    now to be took over

    the glass
    still on the floor
    sparkling in the light
    of the early morning

    I slowly
    draw my hand closer
    and closer
    to the glass

    tempting
    to take
    a shattered piece

    I grasp
    a long shard
    of broken glass

    and cut myself
    my hands grasp
    is loose and the glass
    falls once again

    and my blood
    a bright red
    sparkling in the light
    of the early morning
    falls to the cold tile floor

    and my blood
    bitter and slightly cold
    on my arm
    I feel it
    smell it
    taste it

    and I
    slowly fall
    down into
    the broken glass

    now laying there
    I slowly lose blood
    and I slowly get drained
    and die

    slowly
    the floor is took over
    by the bright red
    blood that was once
    my body's blood

    but now just a scattered mess
    to be cleaned
    and washed away
    from this world
    and gone forever