i've torn

i've torn paper and have seen its jagged edge
subtly transit from the thinness to the thicker
fibers frayed, bandied in ways not intended

i've torn grape from the vine and have noticed the stem
which remains, nub at the end, still green and
wet, but soon hardening, brittle and brown

i've torn my flesh on splintered wood or nail,
watch blood ooze while nerves recoil, breath gasps,
hands grab and hug, hopped off for aid

i've torn a heart set toward hope and love,
ripped kindness from its roots with word, look or lack,
made little of much and diminished the grand

yes, i've torn: and alas, i'll tear again