Destruction

a million pieces
like shards of glass
splintered and sharp
the slightest touch
drawing the
deepest red
exposing liquid life

a thousand pieces
like a ripe fruit
tossed from a
fifty story window
juices scattering across
broken remains and
shattered seeds
forever wasted
against the black top
of my life

a hundred peices
like the torn paper
from a child's scissors
snipping and cutting
trimming and hedging
always going too far
slaughtering the
beauty of the creation
for the thrill of the cut
the joy of power and domain
of control over something's destiny

freeze dried
so that the crash
would be more devastating
more damaging
undeniably permanent
that is what it is
the destruction of my soul