how to break unbroken things


the half-shattered shot glass smiles up at him
its jagged teeth foaming whiskey and blood
they sit and say nothing
until, the whiskey stained glass simply asks:
“why do you break unbroken things?”

as he ponders the question on the glass-carpeted floor,
his bloodied hand toy with a half-full whiskey bottle
he can’t remember exactly why he breaks unbroken things
he doubts he ever completely knew

“very well," the glass sighs
"if you cannot tell me why, at least tell me how”

he nods and bottle in hand,
he stumbles over to the corner of the room,
grabs the half-shattered shot glass,
and spills his secrets into its ear

then he puts it up to his lips
and tells it to whisper his secrets back
he doesn’t want to forget how the way he forgot why

a toast,
to breaking unbroken things

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