Mosaic

I've spent days wrapping myself in shards of glass

making sure each piece was cut, sharp, cruel

just to know that I was feeling everything.

Numbness was starting to creep up, you see, 

mounting the sagging broken steps of my Self.

I have become a Master at breaking things

taking Memories and crushing them fine - like sand

but where each piece is keen like a Blade.

I can dance and whirl on feelings till I Bleed

each turn cutting the soles of my feet

each drop binding the new mosaic of my heart.

smashing the big things till they seem so small

small pieces are easier to carry you know

I'm not losing you this way.  I'm keeping it all.

in bits and pieces that I can handle, carry, consume.

I am a destructive bloody dervish

dancing to a tune Made for me, not by me

pounding, and stomping, dipping, collecting

to keep my Sanity.

Reviews

[Norma M Sutton]

I like this.

[Mauricio Montoya]

lots of feeling here, very strong massage, nice work.

[KAREN]

Felt the pain in this one. The poem is very strong and powerful!

[Emily B]

sometimes the song of self is bloody, mis-shapen, broken . . . but the melody is still beautiful