Roads of Broken Glass

There are nights

breathing

Is like crawling

along a road

of broken glass

that embeds itself

into my flesh

Leaving bloody handprints

knees smears

in my wake

My sky too low

for standing

No place of comfort

to rest

Weary bones

Pierced skin

 

© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

6 thoughts on “Roads of Broken Glass

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