Feeling a little poetic

This poem was written in December 1998 and it had a mind of its own. I wanted it to tell its own story and it really just created itself. It was started on a long plane ride .... I picked up a pen and this is what was born:

"The Wine Goblet"

The wine goblet topples over
and the sweet redness stains,
It sets
It marks its spot.
There it is, dry
Still crimson
Still there
The same as it was,
Left alone since it occurred.

I forgot, mother.
I forgot how to smile.
My face is frozen, white, ashen, pale
It stays the same since the day it happened.
I wonder if you noticed.
I couldn't remember, father.
I couldn't remember how to laugh.
The sounds of happiness are frozen solid, buried under layers of ice,
And all that can escape these lips are sounds of fury, anger, and infinite sadness.
It remains the same since the day I died.
I wonder if you could see it in my eyes.

The wine goblet now empty
Gradually rolls off the table
Leaving the tragic scene
And falling
falling out of space
defying the hourglass
it falls forever
until it can't fall anymore
and it shatters
into so many complicated pieces
that it could never be the same
goblet again.

I broke.
I, too, shattered.
I fell for so long that all I can remember is not the pain of breaking apart
but the anticipation of shattering
Like fragile glass on cold marble
The sip of wine bleeding out and staining deep into the polished stone.

I screamed so loud that night, mother, that I became silent.
I cried so hard that night, father, that I couldn't remember how to stop.
I quietly shouted
But maybe I was too far gone for you to hear
When I finally landed
When every part of me broke
My shattering soul broke through my silence
Since it occurred.
And I know you heard it then.

Once innocence is invaded
Once it falls
Once it shatters
like the wine goblet, it is too complex
to piece back together again.
It will forever remain like the moment it finally stopped falling:
A bitter pile of sharp, biting dust
never to fall again.