treatise on glass

(how you choose to read this, that is if you do, is up to you, but you may have to read it again and maybe even again to find the right handholds)

Twist me
torment me
see if I care,

shake me
rebuke me
see if I feel,

look for me
inside

look at me
outside

look for me
bloodied

look at me
sullied

they say,
be careful
what you wish for,

I’m undernourished
underfed
I’m under-flourished
over-bled.

Crack me
break me
see if I cry
shame me
bruise me
see if I die.

Watch me walk
on grass,
see me walk
on glass;

tender is the pale
is the torn
is the scarred;

weak the air
that I inhale
between my chapping lips,
I gaze upon
a scenery
all neglect and rips.

© Emma Calder

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