Splintered

i gave you my words
when i had nothing tangible
left a poem in your palm
with pretty pieces of me
that slipped down your fingers
into street drains
to flow with filth.

who am i to bleed over lost
words lost pieces
of me?

i know nothing
hold nothing
only broken shards of metal
and mangled reflections of self,
my words hollow
this poem a fragment of
emptiness,
i splinter infinitely.