omens

a black cat crossed the street

as i was speeding down it,

i came to a halt, 

but it was already gone. 

i guess that it's lucky:

i didn't kill the cat,

but as i stepped out to look where it stood,

another car hit me instead.

when i woke up from my daze,

i looked at myself in the mirror,

but my reflection was broken,

and the shards were piercing at my unlucky heart

until i was bleeding from my eyes.

someone asked for the salt at breakfast:

my hands were too shaky, and it spilled

all over the eggs and the chicken,

caught up in a sticky web of rocks.

when i walked to school in the rain, there was a strange man:

he held a gray bucket,

like he was collecting the tears from the sky,

but when i passed him to catch the bus,

the bucket was empty,

and soon it was over my head,

and i felt my hands hit the rocks;

the blood down my neck;

the shrapnel in my stomach.

i guess i'm luckier than i think.