Broken Glass

There's a thin layer of broken glass

Over everything

Most has been ground to dust

I sweep the larger fragments

Under the pretty rug

That you made out of my insecurities

I hide what you do beneath it

Glass crunches under my feet

When I get out of bed every morning

My bare feet bleed in constant agony

Reminding me

Of what I made you do

Of the mistakes I have made

A solemn silence surrounds us

Deafening in its perfect muteness

I wince as you place your hands over my flaws

Covering them

Hiding them

Convincing me that they're not real

You dab camouflage upon me

No one must see

Watery sunlight flows

Through the single window

A small sound, barely audible

Breaks the silence

I try frantically to muffle it

The outside world is contacting me

I silence it quickly, apologetically

I turn my eyes toward you fearfully

My cracked lips part open

A fraction

And I whisper a plea to you

Please

Don't

But you heard

My mistake was made

Eerie silence fills the space

More complete than before

An anticipation

Of the storm to follow

Thunder roars violently

In the small room

Broken glass rains down

From the ceiling

Like a fallen chandelier

In someone else's nightmare

It goes on for so long

Years maybe

I pray for it to end

I pray for me to end

Anything to make it stop

The storm has passed now

I lie broken, surrounded by shards of glass

Silently you pull me to my feet

You hand me the broom

And leave me to clean up your mess