crack my skull and rearrange me.

i was washing the dishes and one of my mom's super heavy green wine glasses slipped out of my hands and landed on another one, breaking both of them. i stood there in a quiet state of a mini shock for a few seconds and my hands were shaking. i kind of wish it had landed on my arm. i stopped the water and dried my hands and started picking up the pieces and placing them on our neighbor's plate that was sitting there, waiting to be useful for something. the first piece i picked up is the bottom of the wine glass with this huge, sharp piece sticking out. i wanted to accidently reach over it and have it get caught on my left arm. i began picking up smaller shards and there was one that stood out because i knew the damage it could cause without much effort. i rinsed it and examined it carefully, touching the sharp part with the tips of my fingers and imagining how nice green looks over my skin as it's being dragged vertically on my arm. i've always loved broken glass more than most things. i left the shard there and walked away for a few minutes. the more i looked at the pile of green glass, the more i wanted to keep all of it. i've never been addicted to drugs or alcohol or cigarettes, but i was addicted to broken glass. this is like the first time you see that person you've been trying to get over all your life and she's standing in front of you but you know this is no good. i love glass. especially broken, like most things i love, and especially when it can make me bleed. i went back and triple-bagged the fucker and threw it away. i had to walk away from it, it's exhausting having to hide your arms and legs from people. but i wanted to keep it all.