humans, humans

…the last row of planter pots you kicked over and screamed
and i joined you in a fury fit to match your rage

just so we could watch the dried clay
break against the concrete,

how good it felt to watch you seething in your anger
splitting into the homes of something that was once alive,

i know you would never throw a pot
if a flower had been blooming inside it,

but you needed to show yourself
that it’s ok to destroy something that’s beautiful

because you knew you would replant it in the morning,
brushing dirt off your brow,

collected sweat in your mason jars…