weapons

I carry my broken pieces in a shoulder bag
They jumble when I walk
Sharpen themselves inside my canvas to make machete of my edges
she wants to take them out and examine the shine
I say, " I never want to know what your blood looks like
so stop touching me."
I only touch
when I wanna feel progression
since I can't reform glass
I am better
when I see me sharper
but everyone wants to see me walk with these weapons in my shoulder bag
walk on these weapons in my shoulder bag
instead of putting myself together on the journey
people like broken pieces
one piece at a time