Made of broken glass



7/2/2017 An abstract piece

It happened today.

I witnessed you (helped you)

break yourself

into a thousand glittering,

painfully tinkling pieces.

All the while loving you

and simultaneously aiding you to

pick them up,

pack them away.


Your blood-tinged fingers

echoes of my heart,

speaking of yours.

Oh, how it hurts to be you.


It is okay, little one,

your peaks and troughs

are blips in the boundless tolerance

of the universe of my love.

You will always have a home in me.



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