Not a Tear

Once I hid within glass like a shell

desperate and lonely with back breaking

arches covering hell

cornering my will into little mounds of pressure.

I dove deep and ended right

side up in a few shards of love with

mouthless, sightless night

that ached and moaned and shrank with each breath.

I avoided eyeless faces and seized

the moments by the throat

that I could wander to far-off trees

where pain never occurred but still no one laughed.

Once I dreamt about birds and significant clouds

with massive artwork and innocent lines

that were to others always too loud

and awkward with noise.

I bend around frozen beauty

like a pair of scissors around thread

and cut the excess cruelty

with a bandana smile.

I woke to a passion to turn

out correctly

and burn

in sunlight.

Once I left the ugly shells of two

hearts clanging together in the hall

and simply turned a corner into

a maze of bricks and lizards were there too.

I raced leaves against the circle of a pond

and stormed between closed gates,

never expecting anything less

than moving on.

I shed no tears.

I bought no vase in the store.

No, that’s a lie.

I cried horrendously and

knocked the carcasses of vases against tile.

I enjoyed the freedom.

I liked the way their shells sounded.