I am crushed.
All blood
Guts
Ooze
Spread across pavement,
Shades of
Green
Yellow
Lavender.
Like a bug.
Trampled and
Compressed into
Someone who bears
No resemblance to
Who or what I am.

Feeling crushed is not
Like treading on
Grapes to make wine.
Feeling crushed is
Being smashed with a
Hammer, shattering
Into shards
Reflecting
Pain and disappointment
To blind me to my
Potential.

Someone stomped on me.
I am crushed.

© Hilary Clark ~ 7/17/19

See the art that inspired this poem here.