Distraught, mutters this face,
align my broken warped ways.
Shattered below chipped shards,
of diffracted spiteful beams.
Owning up, accountable to imperfection,
yet only speaks scratches,
tainting and fracturing, delicately.
Piece by peace.

Fall obtained towards my foible reflection,
benumbed in the sense-
of appearing as a rotten beauty spot.
In that settlement of realisation,
piece by peace,
I’m soothed within poignance, coral concepts.
Stitching intact, rough edged shards,
once again- back to something I’m not.


© Aish