Glass Vase (September 13, 2018)

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I am a glass vase.
A vase that is on a small stand.
A stand that is constantly being moved and shaken;
wind pushing it back and forth.
With each movement, the vase shifts
until suddenly it’s teetering
        on the
       edge.
Crash.

The vase is shattered into a million pieces.
When someone realizes, they try to fix it.
Using scotch tape,
they slowly piece it back together.
It stands back on its stool,
thinking it is safe--
but not for long.
Life comes swirling back around, coming from all directions.
Before anyone can blink,
the vase is back on the floor,
helpless and

alone.

This time, the pieces are smaller and no one tries to fix it.
It is thrown away.
Left in the dark, hoping that someone will find it,
and piece it back together once more.

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