The Frog I Am to Him

Five hours one minute gone
Five hours two minutes gone
Five hours three minutes gone
Scattered to the edges of the universe
So far out of my reach
I'm on the bed
A puddle of tears beneath me
Five hours four minutes gone
I should be up up UP
But I can't move
Maybe this glass has gone through my bones
Acting as pins
Like I'm a frog
Ready to be dissected
I feel like I've been cut open
My organs prodded
And then discarded
Maybe I should get up
Rip this glass from the soft skin
And break down that wall the shards punctured
Maybe I should hurl them at him
Let his glass puncture his skin
Puncture the area his heart used to be
Maybe then he'll feel the way I do
Maybe then he'll understand how it hurt
When those glass knives were thrown at me
After I thought I melted it
But I exploded his glass heart instead
Sending the remnants into my muscles

Or maybe I should just be discarded
Like the frog I am to him.

Author's Note

What do you think?