Wish I could be a fragile piece of glass to accept my brokenness.

….you were a jumble of broken bits of glass the sun caught and stained my soul with your colors….

The trouble with rules, though, is that you’ll always be tempted to break one- for the right reasons, due to unavoidable circumstances, because it feels as if there’s no other choice. And once you break...

A fine glass vase goes from treasure to trash, the moment it is broken. Fortunately, something else happens to you and me. Pick up your pieces. Then, help me gather mine.

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.