I am stuck in this negative 
space 
Where you are leaving you have left you are left that is 
barbs and things
I wish I forgot I slang I slung I sling
These shards of 
Myself

I broke I am broken I am breaking off these parts
To prove I don’t need them anymore before anyone can
hurt them hurt me hurt me with them

And I crush them in my hands 
and they cut through they are cutting through they have cut through
Everywhere

And sometimes you.  Sometimes they cut through you, too.

I don’t want to possess the grace anymore to kiss 
My own smarting flesh, which so often you
Could and would and did. 
And forgave me
For my woundedness, my woundingness, for wounding the 

space

 between us.