Superfluous

It’s all spilling out of me
Like flowers from a fallen vase.
Shattered, scattered,
Fragments and petals.
I bloody my hands picking them up.
Color stained in red.
“Is this love?”

No.
That’s just excessive.

You wash my hands,
Rub Neosporin on my cuts,
And bandage them for me.

“Don’t hurt yourself for my sake.
“The gesture is enough.”

“Ah!
“Thank you.”

-k.r.r.