You are shattered

like a broken vase.

Jagged fragments of glass

scattered around the floor.

.

I grabbed my glue

like I had done 

so many times before.

.

I gathered you up,

bit by bit.

.

I put you together,

each piece with a kiss

and a word of encouragement. 

.

You were complete,

-holding flowers, even.

Just as beautiful 

as when you were whole.

.

But the cracks 

are ever present. 

Water seeps through you,

words still split you open. 

.

Barely any glue 

left in the jar.

What can I do now?