broken

it has been days since we spoke

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it has been days since we spoke

since I felt your touch

or heard my name ever so softly on your lips

 

when you left

a fire was extinguished

its flames snared by the snow that came with December

 

the last lingering of its smoke dissipated

as the new year rung in

 

for months I sat under the shade of the old oak

doing nothing more than

 

wishing

hoping

&

waiting

 

for something to change

for some sign that your leaving was not forever

that you would one day come back and once again free my soul

 

as the seasons changed I watched

looking in at the world around my from a pane of one way glass

so impenetrable it could not be broken by anything

 

or anyone

 

as a bird chirps in the tree above me

the sun in the sky radiates my soul

 

its warmth the only warmth flowing through my veins

weaving through to my heart

 

a heart that has been covered in ice

shut off from the world

 

as small flakes fly off and scratches are made

I feel a change

a shift

in not only myself but the world as well

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I watched the sun disappear

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I watched the sun disappear

fade behind a whispering sheet of black

 

the sun had touched my soul

begun to melt the shields that protected it

exhausting from me the strength that held them

 

in the quiet blackness

those shields tried to mend

creating rough layers over what was already there

any transparency fading quickly behind

 

but the rains came quickly

droplets eased through the cracks

and pounding hail quickly followed

the new shields

bro ken

and

b

.  en t

do nothing more than reopen the freshly healed wounds

 

my mind no longer has control

they say that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger

and as my heart works to repair the damage

my soul knows this is true

 

one day

the sun will come back

its light will cut through the black that I see

its heat will dry the water that has pooled around me

and my shields will retreat only when they know it is safe

shattered glass paints the asphalt

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shattered glass paints the asphalt

broken much like we break our own image

we thinking we must protect ourselves with glass

use it to paint a different portrait of ourselves

makes us shiny

perfect

 

but that shattered glass on the asphalt

has not only broken

it has broken free

for we can now embrace what was behind the glass

and make it stronger

for it is perfect in its own way