Glass Half Shattered
I find my thoughts are often quite destructive or productive
I try to turn the former into something more constructive
My name will live in infamy forever and a day
The loss of independence is the price I have to pay
I dream that putting pen to paper, publishing my woes
Can deter some other creep from traveling down the path I chose
I see these kindred spirits making headlines all the time
Using words like "sick and twisted" may be fair but they malign
All us who decided to be cruel and turn to violence
Linger long in jail or death and do our suffering in silence
But isn't that the way we did our suffering before?
And that just led to bodies bled and senseless acts of gore
The voices of experience in these deeds so macabre
Must speak out against indifference (consider that our job)
We have a second chance to leave a legacy of good
Cause I know I'd take it back if only there's some way I could
Try to piece together and repair half shattered glass
So there won't be any need to fly our flags at demi-mast
Heart out of glass, my dear.
Don't give it to anyone, don't go near.
Humans like to break things.
I don't want you to be destroyed, like a useless vase.
Your heart must bloom like flowers.
Your soul must glow like the rainbows colours.
I don't want you to ache.
Don't want you to break.
You're too much worth for a heartbreak.
Your heartbeat must go on,
with the rhythm of life.
And I know, life has risks.
But only take the risk,
if you promise me you won't let anyone break the vase.
Your vase of love,
Your vase of life,
the vase of the kindest soul I will ever know in my life.
Never plan to leave me, please.
It's an honour to protect your heart of glass, your vase I have to keep safe.
Your heart of glass, clear as the sky without clouds, as the ocean, as the space, without any sound.
You're open like a book, clear to see trough -
but don't let any destroyer near you.
I felt it break,
I saw the shards,
the frame hanging limply
in it's wake as it crashed down.
I never wanted anything but her,
so I kept the curtain open.
But now the glass shines, where it was
embedded deep inside my disembodied soul.
I try and try to pick up the pieces
but they cut at my skin.
I struggle through the pain
the glass still shines without her.
I can fix the shards
of the window
but there is nothing
left inside.
I could reach for the pieces
but all that would do is hide the tell-tale tracks
of a poisoned soul cut too deep,
to ever be whole.
The more I try
the more I scream.
That's the price
to ever love again.
Glass scattered
to the mist,
but that's what I get
for feeling this…
their gulf stretches in a chalice
with a bouquet looking into glass
You wore truth like a tailored suit,
Smiling sharp in the evening light—
But lies stitched seams I couldn’t see,
Till silence screamed through every night.
Your eyes, twin lanterns in the dark,
Once held the stars I swore were real.
But stars, it seems, can flicker cold,
And hearts can kiss, yet never feel.
You spoke of “forever” in soft-spun lace,
While weaving webs behind my back—
Each word a thread of false embrace,
Each step a crack along the track.
You touched another, lips untrue,
With hands that once held all of me.
Did guilt not whisper in your spine,
Or did betrayal set you free?
I drowned in questions, bitter rain,
Searching for reasons in your flame.
But fire only knows to burn—
It doesn’t care who speaks its name.
Now silence sits where love once lay,
A ghost beside my coffee cup.
And all your truths, once sweet as spring,
Taste bitter in this shattered cup.
So take your vows and glass-made dreams—
They break so easy, don’t they, dear?
But know the cost of what you’ve lost:
A love that held you—without fear.
On my dresser rests a bottle of glass
its angle still holding the light like water.
The stopper breathe when raised
and the air loads with her absence.
A breath of jasmine, faint but faithful,
returns me to the nights I waited
for the sound of her heels on the stair
her perfume arriving before her voice.
Now the bottle is nearly empty
yet one drop carries whole worlds:
laughter folded into nightfall rooms,
a touch that lingers longer than flesh.
Brittle as yesterday, constant as devotion
it reveals how a soul can remain
in the echo of fragrance alone
resting quietly where light cannot fade...
Through shattered glass, I see my past
Reflected fragments of what didn't last
Like ripples on a midnight sea
Each piece reveals a part of me.
The phoenix rises from the deep
Where shadows dance and secrets sleep
With every step, I claim my ground
Between the worlds I've turned around.
In cosmic depths, I find my voice
Where darkness meets the inner choice
To rise above the breaking pain
And turn my scars into wings again.
The mirrors crack, the pieces fall
But in their shards, I hear it all
The whispers of my deepest soul
Guiding me to make myself whole.
this stained-glass sky was created by a master painter
dominated by azures, purples, lavenders, fuchsia, plums
toward the bottom of the sky was a bit of dull yellow
a sliver of green also reflected in the pond
tall skinny black shrub trees surrounded this magnificence
I began designing my stained-glass cathedral window
knowing I could never do this scene the justice it deserved
Shattered glass and broken promises,
reflections of how plans once made
can suddenly become just memories...
Crystal clear and shining hopes
that sparkle in the mind's array
of hopeful dreams and quiet fantasies.
Thoughts of wine sipped by the fire,
the tenderness of spoken words,
the sweet seduction of an eager soul.
Quiet moments, conversations,
assurances that love would last
but wine soon warms and passion can grow cold.
Sullen thoughts, a broken heart,
the sound of silence in the air,
lingering echoes of a closing door.
An overwhelming silence
that is only interrupted
by the shattering of a wine glass on the floor.
One woman's glass ceiling is another man's wood floor
but there's no such thing for a second-class citizen
of a third world country
as
there's no moving up gender is against her
sexual orientation too considered 'half a witness'
in testimony
with
neither voice nor choice can't vote
or
leave home alone
unless
with consent
can't emigrate (passport permission required)
and
as for caste if she were a Dalit
(lowest of the low)
there's nowhere to go
so
between me and you, flee, be a refugee,
what's a poor girl to do?
in my glass
champagne bubbles
~ not for long
Shattered mirror pieces
in a cold room -
filled with invisible battles
as the heart
searches for warmth
Numb eyes
deepening scratches.
As seconds pass by,
the urge to rest in peace grows,
but own soul refuses to surrender.
A golden light,
from a narrow crack
falling on those broken pieces
reflecting buried dreams,
rising, drifting across the room
like butterflies.
Reborn charm
eradicates the frozen wall,
filling the room
with charming colors of light
that were once lost.
Broken Glass
My thoughts like broken glass.
Pieces like a jigsaw puzzle.
I can’t put my finger on the right one(s).
I look through each one.
They look so clear.
Stained Glass
God's light shines through.
I suffered through the process.
Serendipity of stained glass.
When I let go, the colors
amazed me so, and not just that,
but the stories they told.
Fragile prayers
Yes, this earth is fragile,
black and blue with floods,
earthquakes, spinners,
and suffering. Is this earth
a bottle of perfumed prayers?
Ascent of Scent
That perfume bottle
is lavender-esque,
something most beautiful,
like Queen Esther,
not her first encounter with the King
but the last, when her pretty head
could have rolled.
I spoke in glass, so fine, so thin
each word a thread of fragile sound.
You touched me once, and cracked within
the walls I'd built to stand my ground.
You smiled like spring-like sudden thaw
and I, all frost, began to break.
You carved your name inside my flaw
and called it love for memory's sake.
You said my silence made you ache,
yet never asked what silence hides.
I bent until I heard the quake
the shatter pulsing from both sides.
Your hands were kind, or so I thought,
until they traced what made me weak.
You warmed the glass, then watched it rot
and left just as I dared to speak.
No storm. No scream. You simply stopped.
You vanished like a breath in cold.
My voice, now scattered, echoes dropped
no shape, no song, no tale retold.
Now others pass me, blind and fast,
they touch and smile, but I’m not there.
I live behind the ghost of glass
and haunt the hallways of thin air.
For if I speak, I fear the break
that every word may be my end.
So silence is the choice I make
to hold the shards where once I’d bend.
looking glass magic
murky message barely seen
who is the fairest
threatening message
from spirit or ancestor
i wiped it away
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