i knocked the mug off the counter.
i felt the impact before the glass even began to shatter.
it hit my foot.
it didn't hurt.
it covered my floor in glass.
it didn't hurt.
i was the one who broke it.
it didn't hurt.
it was a swarthmore mug.
it didn't hurt.
it was my favorite mug.
it didn't feel good.
like in the great words of my father. "it's just stuff."
you're just stuff.
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