Glass Doll

Pieces of a broken girl

scattered on the pavement,

the glass glistens

radiating, refracting

be careful

you’ll cut yourself on the tiny glass pieces.

It’s your mission to glue together pieces that

don’t seem to quite fit

But you manage

You create a new doll,

One beautiful to you

right now. In this moment.

She is splendid,

everything

to you

But in her mind, she is screaming

Pieces smashed together

Integral parts missing, crushed and

long gone by now.

Like a puzzle pieces mixed together

from two different pictures.

She sits, silently

painted smile.

You admire, parade her around with pride.

Caressing cracks in the glass,

but it was you, you who put her back together again.

Yet she,

she is

staring at herself,

unrecognizable.

Is it better to be whole and complete

to be beautiful in someone else’s eyes

to be their shining star, their face glistening with pride

but not at you, rather the work

put into fixing you,

making you whole and complete?