tal-l

whoever created  the image of a heart split in two halves,  cracked edges clear,  was a liar. when a heart  breaks,  it breaks  into  a thousand  shards, none equal  in size or sharpness:  like a pristine  crystal vase  crashing from a high shelf  to its death, some pieces  large, obvious, sharp to the touch, others  so small they get lost,  or rendered  invisible,  like dust. you can’t even  begin  to put yourself  back together before you find  all the pieces; before you realize  you lost them in the first place. 

when you asked me about my day, about my life, was it out of genuine interest, a desire to get to know me? or were you cataloguing my problems, calculating my weaknesses, plotting my demise, preparing yourself with knowledge, for when the moment arose. i had the right to remain silent. but oh, how i love to talk. you listened intently, the pen in your mind taking careful notes, stocking the pantry; salt in the cellar, flour in a sack, neatly tied, waiting, in case the recipe ever called for it.

who drowned my glasses in roses when i wasn’t looking and why did nobody tell me? i thought everything seemed a bit pink… but figured i’d thrown something red in the wash, the color leaching into the white fabric i must’ve looked a fool, sporting flamingo-pink clown glasses everything distorted, a funhouse, in my curved bubblegum lenses or did you all tell me and i just couldn’t hear?