Fraying Edges

Last night I stared too long at the mirror,

cheeks flushed, a nervous ache like thunder.

The song on the radio spun tales of regret,

reminded me how close I was, how

every word could tip a fragile balance,

a crack in my resolve, a sharp silver line—

like that shard of glass I never knew,

how it glints in the light just before,

like the rush of tears hovering, poised,

but somehow held back,

a dam against the swell,

a wild feeling desperate to break through.