Nominated for Best of the Net
I want to see my true self,
all my raw, unglazed edges,
all my broken pieces a puzzle
shattered on the floor. I want
to think of myself forged
from earth, fired in a kiln—
to see the dust beneath
the glaze. I want to search
all the kitchen drawers for glue,
something that will create a bond.
I’ve fallen apart before.
Sometimes, the smallest chips
and splinters must be swept up.
Sometimes, the decision must be made
to keep them or throw them away.
Shards will be lost, enough to see
the veins that mark the damage.
When I ask myself how strong I am,
I say ceramic. I say adhesion.
I say I can trace every wound
with the tip of my finger.