When my glass slipped out of my hand

I watched in horror

Full of dread, if nothing else

Knowing what was to come

And before the first white splash

Marred a sweet-smelling rug

The records had already begun playing

The hum of resentment

Buzzing like a

thing I could also compare its sting to

Sting? No, now a dagger

Striking from a cowardly stance

As daggers do

And now watch as it

Pierces the heart

Spilling yet more precious fluid

And it wells from my eyes

As I curse the heavens that made me so weak

As to cry over so small a failing

Woe, trapped from below

Frozen in a purgatory of anticipation

Anticipation

Anticipation

Wrath

Anticipation

Anticipation

Then the glass shatters

And where the dagger pierced

Now I pat

Understanding at last

It’s only milk.