Shattered Monday

I slammed my fist hard
through the pixels of the screen
expecting a howl

all I got was a broken wrist
and an aching head
so I just sat on the sticky kitchen floor
softly cradling my wrist
and my head

and jacks fell dancing out of my eyes
as my vision slowly started to shatter

and I looked out of the window,
somewhat obscured by empty bottles
left there for months

I saw a woman walking by with a dog
casually eating crisps
as if in slow motion
crisp after crisp

like nothing in the world has happened
or will ever happen
and that’s just the way these
things go

separated by windows, walls,
broken screens and broken wrists
outside and inside
you’re always stuck in one or the other

when someone else reaches in
the image flips and now

you’re on the other side, gone
you can’t even see them
the connection is so bad

they don’t feel the pain
of your broken wrist
the pain of squinting outside
at the woman eating crisps

the pain of her dog limping beside her
and the crisp packet that will run out soon
its insides ransacked

the pain of
the sticky floor you’re sprawled on
the grey light coming in over the bottle tops

clutching your wrist, your head, your heart

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