you put our firsts
in a little glass box
and you carried them around
as tokens of your victory
but you never put on gloves
and your fingers were weak
so the box became tarnished
with fingerprints and cracks
from being touched and dropped
a few times too many
until finally
one rainy afternoon
it shattered on the ground
sending bits and pieces
into everything i own

sometimes i find shards of glass
lying on my bedroom floor
and i'm trying to piece them all back together
but please don't ask
why my memories are so dark
when it's only because
i can't see past
your
careless destruction