so you put it high on a shelf.
and one day, you find the vase on the floor with a chip in its side..
you toss the chipped glass in the trash,
and turn the vase around as you place it back on it’s shelf.
no one will ever know…
the days come and go,
and eventually you forget the chip was even there…
until, you hear the crash.
the vase has fallen to the floor.
this time, a crack down the middle.
super glue will fix it, you think.
carefully, you run the glue down the crack,
and think… good as new.
no one will ever see the crack… nor the chip…
and back up on the shelf, goes the beloved vase.
one day, a friend notices the crack,
and dares to ask what happened.
you brush her question off,
and deep inside, you kick yourself,
because no one was supposed to notice.
you thought you’d hidden it well.
flowers are bought, and water is run,
and fingers are crossed, for the best.
the cracked vase still holds water.
the flowers go in and up on the shelf it goes.
time gets the best of you, and the dust collects on the pretty vase
and the now-dead flowers.
but then, for a third time, you find the vase in the floor…
shattered into pieces.
through the tears, you carefully gather the broken pieces.
through the cuts and blood and super glue,
you try your damndest to fix what’s broken,
just one last time, you think…
when will all this gluing be enough, you think.
what happens if the vase doesn’t go back on the shelf, you wonder…