I pick up the pieces
of the broken frame
ever so carefully.

The shards of glass
and coarse splinters crawl
their way inside my skin,

and I forget the rage
that sent the picture
flying across the room,

as my mind forges
yet another brisk
memory —
one that eats me

and calls me
a glutton.

Parts of my past —
the hoarse whispers —
crawl their way between
the vestiges of
memory imprisoned
inside me,

and become screams,
drowning out the clouds
of who I used to be,
and in a lightning flash of clarity,

I am free,

no longer framed in glass and wood

© Steve Shultz and Christopher Rupley 2015

(This is a collaborative work with Christopher Rupley. Check out his work here.)


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