Fragile

Fragile is the glass-craft heart. So easily shattered upon the ceaseless sands of broken dreams. In your hand you once did hold, a power most obscene. And yet you did, with knowing force, upon the ground it shatter. Did not you once think, in your wildest revery, that your own dear self might be cut?

Glass does shatter into gleaming darts it's true. And yet there is a question that should occur, it seems. Yet what and how, and from what source? You ask in mighty clatter. But to that I merely tutt.

Disposable you think their love? Why my friend, do not you see? That you are a stranger among the we. To you they are naught but chaff, scattered to the seven winds. But tell me true, in your earnest view, if you think them truly so. Do not they strike you as something more? Something never met before?

Sabotaged yourself, you see. Were it never again to see the light of day I'd think it earned. Because they were for what you yearned. You and I, we saw the way, the only one to make them stay. But the bridge, I think it was, too far for you. So, you stopped upon this upthrust ridge.

For, you see, you had a choice. It is not a thing that I would envy, that choice you were forced to make. Behold the sight you once did see, the sweeping lands there behind me. Do not you notice, as you heft that heart of theirs, a hair-thin string betwixt yourselves. It's not a thing you can touch, don't you fret, I haven't gotten to that part yet. But visible it is, to any of us who within our own heart delves.

Did you record it, I wonder now, the moment when you showed them how they were to pass from you? Away into the world, if they could but find the strength, to put themselves in proper shape, before you follow in their fall?

Cassettes are how the deed is done, played on repeat it endlessly runs. Around around around our heads, when we thought those feelings dead.

It plays for you on a loop? If only there was another way. Because, you see, my friend, this is where our story ends. Because that string I once did mention, it finally gets our full attention. It's there you know, though you might not feel, I can assure you that it's real.

Strawberry red it's colour is, though I won't provide a quiz. You see it's more important than you know, to understand that the thread is true. It exists and though you throw, their love away as though were trash, I assure you that was rather brash, since you didn't know what else their string might be tied to.

Away you go, and down you fall. Don't you feel that through it all, it had to happen just so? It was to you that thread did lead, tied there by your couragous deed. To permit love within your heart, even though one day you had to part. Though that parting was too quickly reached, for your relation-ship you did beach. Upon the barren sand of a lonely place to which you raced.

Fragile is the glass-craft heart, my dearest friend. How I weep that this is to be your end. You threw yourself away at once, the moment you, like a dunce decided and cast away, the greatest gift you've ever gotten, hoping it to be forgotten.

But the threads that bind us are tightly wound, so down you go towards the ground. Settle safe, my dearest friend, and when you're finally on the mend, return to me so that we, can drink to who you've come to be.

-0-

This poem was written for Poppy's April Prompts challenge.

It's structure was inspired by Donna Fox's poem I Can Be Scary Too.