Breaking Things That Should Stay Whole

I slammed the drawer hard,

a quick snap like a curse.

The rail shattered beneath my palm,

splinters stabbing the floor,

sharp as my own regret.

Just last month I fixed it,

measuring, tightening,

a small promise to keep.

Now it lies crooked and useless,

like the anger I can’t take back,

broken pieces I have to live with.