My Accustomed Cup

breaking
my accustomed morning cup
into pieces
so I may never drink from it again

not by accident 
but with serious intentions
and careful attention
to avoid jettisoning

sharp ceramic flakes
so small they may be 
unseen until they enter
a finger or toe and draw blood

therefore wrapping it all in a cloth
in which I will safely discard it
after I’ve taken the hammer
to the beloved cup

what shall I drink from now
that I have done this
in an effort to make
my life over

or should this be
just the first step
should I release myself 
from all need for a morning cup

and when will I grow tired
of taking so much care in starting over
and instead let the shards
land where they will

should I just
get used to the blood
and the pain
of stepping on

the small knives and regrets
left behind in the wake
of my abandon and
my new morning chant

let me be
as I am
let me be
as I am 

let me be
this far gone
let me go
where I must

let me leave
only blood behind
to let you know
I was here