My heart is broken
Into little pieces.
Not for want of
Another
Nothing so petty.
Drawing too close around me
Is the darkness
Darkness of vision
Life delayed
Unraveling
Undone
Little pieces
Broken
Jagged
Shards of glass
Upon clean tile floor
White unblemished
Yet distorted
As life.
Pieces
Pieces that cry out
Pain is their language
Pain is their soul
Pieces of pain
Upon the floor
Soul-shards
Cold,
and unliving
But alive
in hatred and hurt
and pain
Gray haze obscures
Darkness that
Lurks
Below.
Lurks. Waits.
Soul-shards
waiting calmly
on the floor of life
for someone to
Pass by
and pick them up.
Not daring to hope
That instead of
being thrown out
like broken glass,
someone might finally
find the glue.
