This is how you become broken

This is how you become broken,
by hardening your skin so much they can’t tell you apart from your grandmothers ornate plate that you keep in the bookshelf.
Then say nothing, only soft things have mouths and words and reasons, you are unyielding and made of ceramic, glass or thin brittle stone.
Paint on your skin in colours seemingly random but to you signify the path so far.
(I’ve chosen peacock colours and my face is all gold.)
This is how you become broken,
once you have made yourself into a mantlepiece decoration, leave yourself in someones hands and watch as you slip through their fingers and onto the floor.
See their mouths form a surprised “O” because they thought you were flesh but you know better and now they do too.
Spend days, months, years trying to find glue strong enough to hold your pieces together, but realise that you’re probably never going to be whole again.
Mourn the pieces that escaped you as you landed on that floor.
Trust no one with fingers to ever touch you again, or rub your jagged edges against them to see if they flinch.
Loving you is now a test and they will always fail.
This is how you become broken, by pretending you’re once hard then shattered.
By pretending you are made of something that can come undone, into pieces.
But we are not glass, or ceramic, or thin brittle stone.
My thighs yield under touch and my arms are strong enough to carry myself.
And I know your soft cheeks and your eyes and your smile on soft rose petal lips.
And darling, you can’t break.



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2 responses to “This is how you become broken

  1. This is may be the best you have written …

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