Glass
Like a Waterford goblet
There are cuts all over me
Though not nearly as exquisite
I am etched with imperfection
Fill that chalice with the beverage of your choice
And it will pour out of all the holes
I lose everything, down to the last teardrop
See me balanced there
Arms like twigs, stretched out
Against neglected framework
So thin, just trying to hold on
Squaring myself for the next assault
Brittle glass trying not to appear weak
Every stone hurled
Has marred the original beauty of the pattern
Leaving jagged holes
The dings and sorrows
Escorted by slings and arrows
Forming lacy crystalline webs which creep across my soul
The glass is barely held together
And will fall to pieces with the slightest touch
Walls protect fragile glass from what lies without them
Don’t touch me because
I’m not unbreakable
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