sometimes the shackling reality breaks one's soul.
to pieces that are just barely smaller than dusts.
they dont blow with the wind. they stay where they fall.
thought it all looked alright. just small spidery cracks.
then it comes all down. like a beautifully orchestrated demolition.
second look, all that is left is pieces.
ceramic pieces. hard. once lived through the hottest fires.
now shattered. parts significantly smaller than initial sum.
it wasnt just a chance that took the first chip off.
it was already cracked. a long time ago. before anyone knew.

but it looked so beautiful.
like prometheus it'll be back at some point,
regrown, reconstructed,
however, somehow less than the day before.

i fell on my knees and chocked.

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