Worn Through the Carpet: A Poem

Today..the world let go of me; and reality became as broken glass.

Threads worn bare by endless stress and self destruction appeared at last

And—in an instant, I found the world to be a rug that had worn out

And I fell through a hole I hard worn through pacing and

Struggling in anguish with my mind and my fear…

I plummeted through to the void left wide and beckoning for feeding…

I knew what it was to be naked at pure zero;

Cold and shaking like a old man’s hand

Unable to think or move or breathe

And watching the mirror stay intact

As my face shattered apart and broke apart instead

My soul started to smolder and ignite,

I’d become a man of paper inside that mirror facade

Burning and tearing and turning to ash

But, although the fire of my drunkenness burst into an inferno

A cry for help exploded from a heart

That had stopped beating and started dying

And, above the roar of the flames,  I listened.

Today the world let me fall but it kept one thread dangling

Which I was able to grasp

For a precious moment

And that fragment was the one I love…

That fragment of the carpet reached out

Despite my hurting her

And refused to let go…

The pieces of my splintered reflection, of my shredded soul

Still are in a state of mend; and that mending will be long…

They may be only glass but the glue of Love

Will mend them;

Will adhere them together

With a glue from another’s heart

A glue insoluble by anything.

So;

The glass of my mask, the soul made of paper inside me

Becomes a new man

Made of healed glass

And rejoined paper

On whose pages are written..

You Can Do this.

You can be Loved

You Are Loved.

You are broken..but you will be whole

And You will be worth it.

Heal.

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