Porcelain Presence

How broken is too broken? What can’t be fixed?
How jagged are those edges? When am I enough?
The slavers and slayers from ages past
That flayed and betrayed you are gone,
But the welts and the weals they left are not.
The shell of a soul that dangles in suspension
Floats but does not settle. It leaps from its
Drifting glacier and hops to the next frozen flat.
Then the next. The next. And the next.
It never sees the safety of now nor the peace of plus.
It can only linger and cling to the hollow of minus.
When will the warrior’s shield be too dented? Too damaged.
When will this blade become so notched it finally snaps?
Broken shards of beautiful creations eventually
Cut the skin of those who pick up the pieces,
Leaving welts and weals of their own.

37 comments

  1. This one got me…like to the core got me.
    “It never sees the safety of now nor the peace of plus.It can only linger and cling to the hollow of minus”.

    This has become a almost crippling fear of mine. I often wonder if there a point at which we arrive at irreparable. Can a part of us shatter, a part so deep inside- buried beneath the remnants of repeated loss, disappointment and heartbreak- that we can’t reach it to try to piece it back together? What happens if this is the foundation on which everything else is built, and all things that were once beautiful, are eventually devoured, succumbing to the abysmal void that has left only a “shell of a soul dangling in suspension”?
    I often wonder….

    Hauntingly beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think there’s a curse to being an empathic healer. At least I feel that way at times. Unfortunately there are things we see, we feel, and it creates this need. Sadly it also sets us up to get cut ourselves.

      There are parts of my journey I don’t open wide, just know that I see what you are saying and recognize it. I didn’t mean to expose any pains from my tribe, as this is one piece that is actually much closer to home.

      Liked by 1 person

    2. You know, Brooke, I never came out and answered the question you posed about arriving at irreparable. I have to say yes. I’ve seen it with someone so very close to me and it is one of the most horrible things to ever see. I implore you to fight against it. I beseech you to rage against the dying of your light.

      Like

  2. This seems to take a different path, a needed path perhaps. This speaks so profoundly to my poetic and my emotional sensibilities. It is lovely sorrow. This line is particularly powerful: “Broken shards of beautiful creations eventually Cut the skin of those who pick up the pieces.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Maybe that’s why you didn’t comment? I didn’t know that AG was going to publish it today myself.

      I told Susan, in another comment, that I believed you secretly preferred my “light” pieces.

      I wasn’t very comfortable when I wrote this, so that must have come out.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. We all have different comfort levels, different styles, different ways of easing our pain. I love your style Wulf and i love your compassion for others, even when it brings you pain. When my first wife was dying, a nurse told me to lay with her and keep telling her it was ok to go, that I’d be ok. I did that all night until she passed and i will always carry those scars and welts.

    Liked by 1 person

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