You broke my mug
The one my mother bought me.
She gave it as a gift
A going-away present
And I pretended,
That every cup of tea I drank from it
She had made me
So when it slipped from your grip and
Against the slate-tile floor you insisted we buy
I shouted, screamed and swore
Until you backed away, arms upraised.
And when you were gone
I knelt down amid the broken pieces
Gathered them in my hands
All jagged edges cutting flesh.
The tile had been scratched,
My thumb dragged in the groove,
And now I stand on it
My feet placed on the mark
My mother’s mug made
Part of the house
Ellen Duncan is currently studying MA English at Cardiff Metropolitan University, having studied BA English and Creative Writing at the same university. She has had a short story published in the anthology The ‘C’ Word and regularly attends and reads at poetry and spoken word events.