one small david-sized rock
in that raw spot between two goliath-sized eyes
and defenses splinter
spider webs cricking and cracking across the pane
one deafening shatter
an impact, like a toppled bucket of nails
jagged shards exploding over the carefully constructed landscape
tender universes of shame
broken edges, barbed corners
each uniquely able to draw blood
every piece screams its own scream:
I hurt him!
Not good enough!
What a disappointment, what a mess, what a fool you’ve been!
the blood pools around the fragments now, a ruby puddle of pain
Not what you were supposed to be!
You’ll never find love!
You don’t matter…
the sun sets, the stars rise
and the wounds that don’t heal
rubicund, then incarnadine, then crimson
then the sepia crust of scabs
that will eventually pinken
gentle scars remain
vulnerable to another hit, another day