Swift feet gliding up the stairs,
Door flung open,
Running across glossy floors,
Into the open arms of her bed,
Sobbing, softly into the pillows,
Darkening their exquisite embroideries with her welcome tears,
Just that sentence was enough to temporarily shatter the delicate glass figurine that hangs suspended inside of her, by a single thread of silk.
Every harsh word cutting like a daggers wield, into the innocent flesh of her exuberant spirit and excitement,
Destroying, pillaging, murdering within seconds.
Beeilderingly, they so easily they rolled off the tongue of the speaker,
Like bitter acid, and spit it tumbled out,
Scorching and scalding a single listener.
Heavy feet make their way up,
A knock there comes at the door,
Gentle tip toeing across the floor boards,
Stopping at her bedside,
Gazing at the trembling body,
Wrapping herself in a blanket cocoon,
Dark hair spread out on the backdrop of her pillows, like a halo,
Face turned towards the wall.
A soft word emerges,
Attempting to mend the broken pieces,
Of a heart so used to giving,
And caring, nurturing, loving,
Expecting nothing else but that in return,
And never ceasing even when it doesn’t always come.
But sometimes, something inside just breaks.
You see, I was fashioned from the bent rib of Man,
With a curve only kindness can soften.