.This is my blood too.

After I broke the vase
And the candle in it too
My sister said,
“This isn’t like you.”


But isn’t it?
Isn’t this me too?
This unpleasant side
That grabs for any object it can throw.


Isn’t this me too?
Shattering my lungs
With high-pitched screams
And shallow hums.


Isn’t this me too?
The broken glass on the carpet
that will be cutting me for months.
When I kneel down
beside the couch
to find the pen I’ve dropped.
I will feel a sharp edge
I did not vacuum up.
When I stand
there will be an open cut


and this is my blood


Sarah currently lives and works in Edmonds, Washington. She would describe herself as painfully shy by nature but has learned to overcome it by simply pretending not to be. She says it mostly works unless it doesn’t. When she’s not hanging out with her sisters, she enjoys running, eating, reading, taking pictures and staying up too late.


  1. Had to Google this to find your poem – amazing Sarah 🙂 So brave for putting your words out there. Sharing what’s deep inside you is the best gift you could ever give. Keep going 🙂


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