Mosiac

              The darkness 
that overpowers the sun
creeps into my mind 
     like oil

mixing with water. The brilliance 
     of the sun 
blotched out. 

     My blunders
crawl through my veins 
     eating away all the hope 
finding refuge behind my organs. 
            One small step
 
     and I plummeted 
within a cloud of dust,
a tangled mass of “what if’s” lodged 
           into my temples.
 
What if I stopped you? 
What if my unspoken words 
     hadn’t roared 

     from my mouth 
like a lioness trapping her prey? 

             Now the glass 
window has shattered 
     and picking up the scattered pieces 
            is like 

            working 
     on a puzzle with no guide, 
no image to grab my wrist 
and pull me forward. 
    My knees weave
 
    through the crumbs,
the glass punctures more skin
    as I work aimlessly
to patch the shattered fragments. 
            To make us whole again. 

    My eyes 
    begin to fog but I torture on. 
That void, that nothingness 
came forth from the splinter 
            on my tongue.

My lips 
            fought against my mind.
They screamed my envy 
    of your lost time. 


            I shoved the frame
    until it bent under my pressure.
I watched our friendship
            crumble over a man. 

            This broken window 
is mine to fix, but yet I sense you 
hovering nearby. I feel your hands 
scavenging the wreckage. 
    Your eyes
 
            light on mine as we toil
to repair our shattered relationship.
    Our window evolves from a simple structure 
below our moving fingers 
    to a mosaic
 
of cracks and fractures. 
Grows more beautiful with every pound 
of our beating hearts. 
     The sun 

            overpowers the darkness 
creeping into our blood.
            The orange tinted stained glass light 
gives us a guide, an image 
to take our now red stained fingertips forward. 
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