SHATTERED

How cruel the stones
that come from tongues,
leaving the heart’s vase in shards ,
as puzzle missing pieces,
they never cast a perfect image
made worse when trampled upon
by the feet who love to crush
another’s fragile features.

To seek the light
still shining in the ruins
gleams what is radiant
that didn’t die
when words are a meteor
crashing into your mind,
exploding as an atomic bomb,
leaving every looking glass memory
shattered and unable to be reassembled.
not able to still see the truth
after someone’s verbal missiles
destroyed one’s glass house of joy
using their insult rockets
launched from hateful lips.

Taking time to gather the remains
of the fractured self-portrait,
trying to remind oneself
it will never reflect all that is inside,
for it only tells part of one’s story,
the rest is a tale only the mind can share,
which never depends upon a face’s features
in order to be expressed.