Self-Destruction — Valentina Cano

Thinking of him,
my teeth turned to glass.
Like a spoon striking a cup,
my thoughts,
everything white and useful,
crystallized.
I gasped as the weight of the change
dug into me,
drawing blood and spilling secrets
by the bucketfuls.
There was nothing to be done,
no bandage to apply
or words to roll up like scattered yarn.
There was just glass
in a lake of blood