Cartoonish Recoil

Eyes trained in front of me through the net,

waiting for the downbeat.

Imagine a punchbag recoil

and now you’ve seen me, 

flung backwards.

My glasses frame exploded inward, 

the metal digging into me.The glass had the mercy 

not to bend and shatter.

Didn’t notice til it healed in a straight line 

like someone had raked their nail across the bridge of my nose.

I was bleeding straight,

the copper frame bridge shoved into my skin

like strangers elbowing into each other

when the train jolts to a stop.

But I didn’t think to check 

if I was bleeding at all.

Image credit to Harrod Sport.