Chaotic Bliss

When we break,
our pieces mingle.

We lay on
the floor
amongst each other
and become
parts in each other's
puzzle.

Reassembly results
in a picture
--and like most
pictures,
we become subject
to other people’s
scrutiny.

(Best we stay broken,
our pieces
jumbled together
in chaotic bliss.)

Shatter Dance

Her path always leads to
broken glass.

She has had a private war with mirrors
ever since she learned
to hate herself.

She breaks every one
that bears her image.

The sound of the shatter
makes her shudder
and she dances in ecstasy
among the spreading shards
desperately trying to forget
she is the one
that is broken.