Shards

I keep on dreaming of what didn't happen- -or did it? Lines of reality blurred Nearly impossible to know What's real, and what's fabricated In my twisted mind I see Shaky tires swerving Into a wooden telephone poll That acts like a sentinel Metal crunches, glass shatters Peppering me, like razors They cut into my skin, And I bleed I want to scream, but I can't For I am being crushed into solid wood My bones, like the finest of China Break so easily under the onslaught And before the world fades to black The car has swerved, but I am alive Having narrowly missed that pole Everything is not as it seems He is not comforting me, Not telling me everything will be okay For he was the one to swerve that car He is the one threatening To spill my blood Describing (ever so eloquently) How he will cut my tender flesh With a shiny blade Time passes, but in what increments I do not know The days and nights slide together Almost like fluid, but I don't flow with it I am tossed from day to day A cork struggling to remain afloat In the roughest of currents I nearly drown Weeping, head down, nothing But guilt shame can I feel I am alive, by the grace of God And yet... I don't deserve life