Fragile as Glass

November 18, 2008
By Emily Roseman, Rochester, MA

Sweater tearing on a nail,
I shouldn’t be here
but the last bus has gone.

Stumbling along the boardwalk
of cobblestones
the trees’ fingers thrash blindly
but I am used to the scratches.

How do you speak to an actor
with two glass eyes?
I do not know
as the darkness comes.

Futures are breakable
and I can hear my crystal ball falling
as the house rings, once, twice.

How long is an eternity?
All mysteries shall be solved today.

My feet may be stuck in cement
but my parched lips can still move,
I discover this when
the familiar creak sounds.

I see now my crystal ball was in the
wrong hands.
They were not my hands,
and now my crystal ball has smashed
and the shards of glass are flying
I wonder if one will make me bleed.

“There’s no one here by that name.”
Must be the only line on the actor’s script.
The familiar creak sounds again
this time with a slam.

I’m glad the sky can show sympathy
for glass eye’s cannot.
It has started to rain
and the puddles turn red.

But tears cannot break the cement
that the actor has trapped me in.
No, now I am the only one
who can make the cement crumble.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!