Fixing this would be like gluing a portion of sand back into the ceramic chalice it once was.
I’ve tried to find each granule in the desert.
Through hopelessness, I strived to search for each missing spec,
but a storm blew all of the pieces in different directions.
Alone, I traveled, still looking.
Famished in despair with broken breaths of air.
Fallen at your feet, still you don’t seem to care.
I stand, move forward, choking as I sift the sand.
Cold eyes stare as I fight to bring it back together.
Under your glare, I stack the grains.
Squinting into the sunlit grit, eyes burning with pain.
Still you bend back my scrambling fingers in disdain.
Emotions beginning to wane,
heartbreak stain bleeding through to my seeding mind.
Finding doubt in each fleck of sun-drenched rock.
I lost myself in the particles flicked behind.
Searching for meaning in a meaningless void,
while you enjoyed watching as I unearthed everything you had already destroyed.
The chalice was meant to share with you.
Malice ruined the chance.
Hope did not relent as I balanced on a thin wire of love and hate.
You shook the wire to watch me fall;
caught in your arms, reassured, you set me back upon the wire only to shake it again.
If I allow this to go on, my fate will match the chalice,
broken into a fine dust blowing across the desert crust.