‘To Break’

Written by Author : JAMIEL JONES

You seep sadness like maple from a tree,

and I see you, crying into your tired hands.

You’re an egg—cracking

Fragile.

Like an antique vase

Breaking is easy.

To Break:

Is to stumble down the highway in a stupor—

and I guide you home on a bicycle, watching your state of decay.

Horns blare. Headlights flash. My bicycle wheels squeak in the summer rain.

You stomp through the

puddles in that pitch of night.

But we make it home, and you claw up the stairs, through that door,

into your room,

and die in your bed.

To Break:

Is to raise your fist and watch it bellow into my chest when I scream, I hate you!

Because you keep burying yourself

You descend into a sea of broken things

and I wonder where all your lost pride and motivations went.

We scrape at joy. Your hand holds mine to stir the spaghetti.

Flick a noodle on the wall—watch it stick. That’s how you know it’s done, you say.

The sweet aroma of tomatoes

bleeds through our tiny apartment.But that is not enough. Because as time erects itself around us

you moan with ex pleasures time and time again.

Why does the swinging euphoria of that man make you happy

but I don’t?

To Break:

Is to relinquish your rights and run back to domestic chaos.

Is to paste on that makeup, clip those cheap hoop earrings,

and spray on that mundane perfume.

My tree branches in again and he says, Everything will be okay.

I do not believe him.

You give up everything

I think you stop existing

Sometimes you’re just a goddess of destruction

You break things.

To Break:

Is to shatter yourself

with those battered hands

Your reflection is gone,

and I just hope it’s worth it.